The Gifted
by xxemily92xx
Summary: Even in a school filled with students who can breathe fire, shape stone with their bare hands and wield axes three times their size, Bilbo Baggins still doesn't feel like he belongs. High school changes everyone, but for Bilbo its about learning to be himself, whoever that may be. There's a long way to go before Bilbo is ready to face the world.
1. An Unexpected Welcome

Bilbo Baggins closed his eyes wearily, fingers trembling slightly with cold as he tugged the edges of his jacket closer. His neck and back ached from the stiff red seat of the train, the fabric faded and torn with age, pale foam stuffing spilling out in places. He watched the scenery pass by with a sense of detachment as the fields of green steadily became fewer. The cool pane of glass against his cheek was a stark contrast to the warmth of his father's car, the sleek black SUV no doubt hours away by now, winding through familiar twisting roads and hills.

_This will be the farthest from home I've ever been,_ Bilbo realized with a start. Biting his lip, the thought did little to comfort him.

After all, what was one more uncomfortable revelation after the week he'd had?

The train gave a weak jolt, and Bilbo frowned in discomfort as his head bumped the window, scooting across a couple seats dismally. No, this was definitely not his father's SUV anymore. He almost wished he were back in the Shire, putting up with his younger cousins and complaining about homework. Even Lobelia's face would be a welcome change from the-

Cutting himself off mid-thought, Bilbo shook his head resolutely and straightened in his seat.

Clearly he was borderline insane too.

Voices filtered through from the corridor outside his compartment as the door slid open with a click. Sinking lower into his seat, Bilbo prayed the intruders wouldn't see him from his place among the second row of seats, or if they did they would have the sense to sit in the first or third row. Running a hand through his curls nervously, he tried not to think about the way his breathing quickened or the swell of panic as his muscles tensed. For a moment his insides gave a sickening twist and he closed his eyes, focusing instead on slowly inhaling and exhaling, forcing himself to calm down.

"_You'll get used to it soon," Haldir had told him in a way that was meant to be comforting, as Bilbo smothered his nausea and nodded mutely. He glanced up in time to catch his father leaving the room._

"_What if I don't want to get used to it?" he asked quietly, almost in a whisper, and the Gifted had placed a hand on his shoulder lightly._

"_Sometimes we don't have much of a choice, I'm afraid."_

Mentally steeling himself, Bilbo cracked open one eye warily. The carriage was silent and there was no sign of whoever had opened the door, to his immense relief. Maybe his luck was better than he thought-

A hand descended on each of his shoulders and he bit back a shriek.

Two grinning faces appeared on either side of his seat, one with scruffy dark brown hair and the other a somewhat neater blonde. They must have hidden themselves in the row behind him, he realized with a sinking feeling.

Bilbo had only a moment to be proud of his control before the brunet boy vaulted over the back of the seat, perching himself on the frayed cushion beside him. The boy grinned widely.

"Can I…can I help you?" Bilbo asked, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. Catching the action, the brunet grinned wider and Bilbo suppressed a shiver.

"Don't tell me we're the first? I thought for sure the others would be here by now!" he exclaimed, glancing around the compartment. Bilbo felt his eyes widen as the cushion dipped again, the second boy sliding over the top of the seats to sit shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Except Thorin. He's _always _late."

"Ah…ok…well I'm not exactly sure who that-" Bilbo began, before the blonde boy cut him off with wide eyes.

"Oh! How rude of us, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet! Fili-"

"And Kili-"

"At your service," they finished together, bowing their heads in sync.

Bilbo blinked stupidly at them for a moment, unsure how to respond. Definitely brothers if the dual talking was anything to go on, he supposed, straightening a little in his seat. Strange introduction aside, Fili and Kili seemed friendly enough.

"Bilbo Baggins at yours," he replied after a moment, remembering at the last second to duck his head slightly in a small bow, not wanting to offend either teenager. Neither boy seemed to notice his awkwardness, and so Bilbo counted that as a win.

"So…are you a first year? You must be right? What's your gift? Will you be in alpha or-" Kili broke off as Fili smacked the back of his head, rolling his eyes. Bilbo tried not to blanch, the nervous tingling returning to his insides once more. Exhaling again slowly, he willed away the sensation.

"Kee, you're doing it again."

Kili rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Boggins…"

"Baggins," Bilbo automatically corrected.

"Boggins-"

"_Baggins_."

"Ah! Sorry, _Boggins_," Kili stressed with a grin, and Bilbo couldn't help a small huff of annoyance, "are you a first year?"

Bilbo chewed his bottom lip for a moment, his sense of melancholy returning. Honestly, he was surprised it had left at all.

"Yeah, first year," he confirmed, and Fili cocked his head to the side.

"You seem pretty nervous, did your parents not bring you to last year's orientation? I don't remember seeing you there, come to think of it…" Fili trailed off, and Bilbo froze.

"_Freaks and abominations, queer folk with even queerer customs if ye' ask me. Thank the gods we don't have to put up with their sort here in the Shire,"_ his uncle Longo would often say, Otho his pudgy son nodding along with a scowl. Bilbo felt himself pale at the memory, his knuckles white where they clutched the fabric of his sleeve.

Before he could think of a decent excuse, the door slid open with a loud clack, the chipped green wood almost slamming into the edge of the metal runner.

_Is he…even a teenager…?_ Bilbo wondered in mute horror.

"Dwalin!" Fili and Kili chorused as a large boy sank into the seat in front, twisting around to lean over the back of the chair. Broad shoulders, a dark Mohawk and burly muscles all marked him as someone Bilbo would have happily avoided, but as he turned to them a small smile softened his face.

"Don't know how you got stuck between these two terrors, but god I feel for ya," he muttered, shaking his head in pity.

Two indignant squawks of "Oi!" and "Hey!" were ignored as the door slid open again, revealing three more teenagers.

The first was a little scrawny compared to the others, a book clutched to his chest and his brown hair scruffy. With a shy smile, the boy sat down beside Dwalin, mirroring his twisted around posture to face the others. Dwalin thumped him on the shoulder with a grin which was returned after a slight wince. The second teenager nodded to each of them cheerfully, sinking into a seat in the third row and leaning forward, an old wooly hat crammed on his head. Another boy with his red hair in a bizarre three-pointed style sank beside him, whistling nonchalantly to himself as he propped both feet up on the chair opposite. Catching Bilbo staring, the boy smirked and winked cheekily.

He reminded Bilbo of a starfish.

"That's Bofur, and the other two are Ori and Nori," Fili murmured under his breath to Bilbo, nodding to each of them.

"Dwalin and Nori are both second years but Ori and Bofur are first years like us," Kili added.

Glancing around the now rapidly filling compartment, Bilbo stared at the brothers warily. Though there were three rows, very few seats actually remained, hence why it had taken Bilbo so long to find a compartment to himself.

_Fat lot of good that did me,_ he thought a little irritably, jumping slightly as Dwalin laughed boisterously beside his ear.

"Just how many more are there?" he whispered to Fili with a frown, "and why _this _compartment?"

"Almost everyone's here," Fili assured, grin widening.

"You still haven't explained why-" Again the teen was cut off as the door opened, revealing another broad shouldered student with thick ginger hair, followed by-

"I-is that an…?"

"An axe? Yup."

"…but it's…"

"Yup."

"Ah." Bilbo mumbled quietly, forgetting most of his irritation. It really wasn't every day you saw a teenage boy with the metal head of an axe lodged in his forehead. The teen spoke gibberish, signing rapidly with his hands while the others greeted him.

"Meet Gloin and Bifur," Kili pointed out, and Bilbo simply nodded.

Clutching his coat closer, Bilbo shifted as far along as the old seat would allow, wincing at the creak it made when the other two boys flopped down. Resisting the urge to sink into his seat, Bilbo wondered how on earth he went from an empty compartment to sitting shoulder to shoulder in a group of rowdy teenagers.

Clapping him on the shoulder, Kili jumped to his feet, balancing on the cushion with a loud whistle. Fili shot up beside him with a grin, and the rest of the room glanced up at them in interest.

Bilbo just hoped they didn't step on him.

"So, since we know you-know-who is probably lost again-" Kili began.

"-and will take forever to get here-" Fili added, as a snort of laughter went through the group.

"We wanted to introduce our new friend, Bilbo," Fili finished, gesturing to the wide eyed teenager below.

"Bilbo Boggins," Kili corrected, grinning at his brother.

"_Baggins!_" Bilbo snapped, embarrassment lost in the surge of irritation. Fili shot his brother an approving look.

"Yes, _Boggins_, that's what I said!" Kili agreed, and Bilbo huffed.

Feeling the eyes of the rest of the compartment on them, Bilbo swallowed his annoyance as a wave of unease came over him, butterflies of nervousness tickling his stomach.

Noticing Ori's head tilted in confusion, Kili shook his head with a sigh.

"It's an inside joke, you guys wouldn't understand."

"We met half an hour ago…" Bilbo murmured.

"And now look at us; already we're the best of friends! Isn't that right Fili?"

"The closest of friends," Fili agreed seriously, lips twitching faintly as he struggled not to smile. Shaking his head to himself, Bilbo wisely chose not to argue.

"Bofur and Bifur, at your service," the boy with the wool hat piped up from behind, as he and the axe headed teen bowed their heads to him.

"Dwalin," Dwalin grunted, nodding briefly.

"Ori and Nori, at your service," the smaller teen in front of him added, nodding at the same time as the starfish teen.

"Gloin, at ya' service," the burly red haired teen said with a grin, bowing his head.

"Oh! Ah…Bilbo Baggins at yours…?" Bilbo responded, ducking his head awkwardly. They either didn't notice his nervousness or didn't care as Bilbo received nothing but nods and smiles in return. He breathed a sigh of relief.

_It must be a Gifted thing, not a Fili and Kili thing then,_ he reasoned, and stored the information away for later.

From beside him, Kili nudged his shoulder with an elbow.

"You never did say what your Gift was?" he asked after a moment, and something must have shown on Bilbo's face as the teen hastily attempted to backtrack. "Not that you need to tell us or anything…uh…'cos you know it's none of our business and Mum is always on my case about being too-"

"Annoying?" offered Dwalin as Kili pouted.

"No-"

"Irritating?" added Gloin.

"No!"

Bifur made a quick series of signs, hands almost moving too fast for Bilbo to keep up before the others roared with laughter. Kili spluttered, pink creeping onto his cheeks.

"Screw you guys!" the brunet exclaimed in false anger, the twitching of his lips giving him away. Bilbo soon found himself almost smiling as slowly, the ball of nerves that was his insides began to loosen.

An odd buzzing sounded, and Fili dug his mobile out of his pocket while Kili continued arguing. The soft glow of the screen lit up his features, casting a bluish tinge to his face. Grinning widely, deft fingers tapped out a quick message before dropping the device back into his jacket. Bilbo barely had time to wonder at the message before the door slid open once more.

"Uncle Thorin! You finally made it," Kili greeted brightly.

Bilbo tried not to stare.

Thick, black hair tied into a low ponytail at the base of his neck, streaks of grey flecked through the temples. His long, dark blue coat swished faintly as he turned to close the door, broad shoulders visible even through the thick fabric. He couldn't quite place it, but something about the youth gave him an almost regal air, from the way he held himself to the way he scowled down at the twins.

_That's an odd thought to have about somebody, _Bilbo realized with a small frown, tearing his gaze away before the other boy noticed him. Then again, it _had _been an odd few days.

"I thought you said this place was easy to find? I got lost twice," he grumbled, voice a deep baritone.

"Same place as it was last year," Dwalin said bluntly, and the other boy, Thorin, Bilbo corrected, rolled his eyes.

"He got lost last year too," Nori added with a smirk, and Thorin bristled.

"Well maybe if we met somewhere easier to find-"

"This is Bilbo, Uncle!" Fili interjected with a smile, and Thorin seemed to notice him for the first time.

Sharp cobalt locked onto wide emerald, and Bilbo tried not to look too much like a deer caught in the headlights. A buzzing sounded in his ears as his stomach plummeted with nerves, the weight of the other's gaze making him suddenly feel very small.

"…Uncle?" Fili murmured, but Bilbo barely heard him as his hands began to shake.

Bilbo felt as if his skin was burning, a constant tingle running over his limbs. His breath caught in his throat as the now familiar sensation of falling swept over him.

_Oh no no no no-_

Blue eyes narrowed slightly before widening in shock.

Bilbo felt himself flush as several gasps of surprise rang out. He fought the urge to cover his face in his hands, his chest tightening with shame. Biting his lip, Bilbo focused on his breathing and tried to ignore his surroundings.

The world around him had faded to shades of grey, the shapes of his fellow students shifting blearily, as if he were underwater. Shuddering, he squeezed his eyes closed.

Slowly, Bilbo became visible again.

There was a lengthy pause, the only sound in the packed compartment his own heartbeat pounding wildly in his ears. Bilbo stared down at his hands, unable to meet anyone's eye. He swallowed heavily, willing the nausea to abate. Any moment now the names would begin, he knew, just like before-

"That's really cool," Kili murmured in awe, and Nori let out a low whistle. Bilbo jerked his head up with surprise, eyes wide in uncertainty.

"What?"

"Aye, that'd be a handy Gift to have," Gloin added, nodding to himself. Bilbo opened and closed his mouth stupidly for a moment, before Fili elbowed him in the ribs none too gently. Before he could muster up a thank you, or anything really, Thorin stepped forward, leaning against the edge of the seats.

"So, this is your new friend?" he asked, and Fili and Kili nodded eagerly. Raising a brow, Bilbo tried not to look away as the teen stared at him.

"Tell me, have you done any training? Sword or axe, perhaps?"

"Uh…well, if you must know, I have some skill at conkers…" Bilbo replied, thrown off kilter by the direct questioning.

_Did I really just say conkers? Oh my god…_

Thorin's brow rose higher if possible, and beside him Bilbo heard Kili's poorly concealed snort of amusement.

"I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a Gifted," Thorin drawled, crossing his arms. A couple of chuckles went up at that and Bilbo tried to will away the flush that no doubt stained his face.

In a smooth movement, Thorin sank into the seat beside Kili. Jumping slightly in surprise, Bilbo stared at him in confusion.

"Thorin Durin, at your service," he finished, eyes boring into Bilbo as he lowered his head subtly. Beside him, Fili and Kili grinned, as Bilbo scrambled to reply accordingly.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours."


	2. The Academy

"So…you turn invisible when you're scared?" Ori asked curiously, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees in interest. Bilbo shrugged, leaning back against the window in an effort to get comfortable.

"Scared or embarrassed," he confirmed, stubbornly ignoring the twist of nerves in his belly. The undivided attention of ten teenagers will do that to you, he supposed.

"Reminds me a little of Bif, remember last year?" Bofur piped up, elbowing Bifur in the ribs. The older teen frowned, nodding reluctantly. Nori shot the boy a grin.

"Aye, I remember. Every time the poor guy sneezed he shifted by accident," he snorted in amusement, ignoring the rapid-fire gibberish and hand signals being shot in his direction.

Bilbo frowned somewhat in confusion, glancing between the others. Against the door frame Thorin straightened, stuffing his mobile inside his long jacket.

"Bifur's gift is shifting part or all of his body," he explained, nodding toward the teen.

Bilbo's mouth made a small 'o' in understanding and the older teen glanced away, casually scuffing a dark grey boot against the frayed and stained carpet. Bilbo blinked in confusion at the sudden change, but before he could even think of something to say (and really, what could he say anyway?), Bifur stood, massaging his knuckles with a soft crack. He shrugged out of his jacket, chucking it unceremoniously onto the threadbare cushion behind him.

All at once his form seemed to ripple, as if water was running down his body. The boys arm elongated, bones snapping and grinding as they grew in size. Dark, black hair matted and grew as wickedly sharp claws erupted out of the skin, skin which began to turn leathery and grey.

With a smirk Bifur flexed the new appendage, the long spindly limb almost twice as long as his other arm. Hard planes of muscle moved smoothly beneath the skin.

Bilbo's eyes widened in amazement, glancing between the other boy's smug face and the lethal looking claws. The weak lighting of the compartment only added to the effect, and Bilbo had the fleeting thought that this could be a horror movie of sorts.

"Th-that's incredible!" he exclaimed, genuinely impressed. Bifur shot him a wide grin while Kili rolled his eyes.

"Pssh, you just wait until you see _our _gifts, Bilbo-"

"No," Thorin interrupted firmly. Both twins shot him identical expressions of dismay as the older teen held up a hand. "You're still both first years; knowing you two the train may not survive."

"But Uncle-" both exclaimed at the same time, pouting now. Thorin's eye twitched in what could only be aggravation.

"Stop calling me that it makes me seem old-"

"You _are _old-" Kili shot back.

"There's only a year between us!"

"Why have you already got greys then?" Fili muttered, and Thorin bristled.

"I do _not _have greys."

Before the twins could retort the shrill scream of the train whistle sounded, as the locomotive lurched to a stop.

Bifur's skin rippled once more as he shifted back to normal, sitting back onto the seat beside the others. The twins and their uncle stumbled slightly, the sudden movement sending Fili tripping forward unexpectedly. In a swift movement Thorin steadied him, rolling his eyes and shooting his nephew an exasperated look. Fili grinned back sheepishly.

"Lets move. I don't want to have to sit next to that Thranduil asshole again," Thorin muttered.

"Thranduil?" Bilbo asked curiously, straightening from his seat. He winced at the protest his muscles gave at the movement, back and neck aching uncomfortably.

Thorin scowled deeply, as if he had bitten into something sour. Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, _Thranduil,_" he spat, turning to slide open the door. The metal clanged loudly with the force as the 16 year old stomped into the corridor. Bilbo was left blinking in confusion as the twins shook their heads, gesturing to leave him be.

"Long story, don't worry about it," Bofur assured, cramming his wool hat onto his head and stepping out the door, smiling all the while. The others filed past, chatting amicably amongst themselves, excitement evident in their expressions. The twins practically bounced on their heels.

All too soon Bilbo was in the once again empty compartment.

_This is it,_ he thought to himself nervously. This was the moment he had been dreading, the moment he truly became a gifted. The second he stepped out of this compartment everything changed.

"_Sometimes we're swept off our feet. We might lose something in the process, and it might be scary. We might miss our life before or we might lose who we used to be," here she paused, smiling at the young boy with messy auburn curls. "…or, we could find more than we dreamed possible. It is only through looking that anything can be found, my boy." The young boy furrowed his eyebrows in thought, glancing fearfully up at her._

"_And what if I don't find anything?" She smiled softly down at him, emerald eyes filled with warmth._

"_And what if you do?"_

Bilbo scrubbed a hand over his eyes, the memory of his mother leaving the usual ache in his chest. Three years on and he still missed her terribly. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo allowed the memory to bolster his resolve, squaring his shoulders.

He could do this.

"Oi, Boggins are you coming or not?" Kili's voice floated back to him from outside the compartment, his head appearing in the door a moment later.

Glancing once more around the old compartment, Bilbo nodded, shrugging his coat closer and stepping through the sliding door.

The hallway was absolute mayhem.

Bilbo flinched as he was almost shoved back into the compartment by the sheer number of bodies all shoving and attempting to get past. Two pairs of hands steadied him as the twins grinned down at him. Glancing up, he realised the others had waited for him and immediately felt warmth blossom in his chest.

Even Thorin stood there, arms crossed and dark expression ensuring the other students left a bubble of space around him. Nodding to him, Dwalin stepped forward, Ori at his back as the group managed to push and shove their way into the throng.

Beside him, Nori smirked and stepped backwards against the wall, winking cheekily before his body melted into his own shadow. Bilbo gasped softly in surprise as the black shape stretched long and thin, shooting along the wall and out the door at the end of the carriage.

"Show off," muttered Gloin as he pushed his way forward.

Moments later the group of teens stumbled through the exit, Bilbo inhaling the crisp mountain air greedily. It had been hard to breathe crammed in with so many others at once, his usual nervousness not helping.

Ahead of them students were splitting into three different streams while adults he assumed were staff attempted to establish order.

"We'd best move our asses; I heard second years report to Saruman this year," Nori said from behind them, making Bilbo jump slightly.

Thorin sighed and Dwalin groaned. Ori offered him a soft pat on the arm in sympathy, small smile on his face.

"Find Gandalf, I think he's in charge of first years this time," Thorin paused, narrowing his eyes at the twins, "Stay out of trouble, we'll meet you after the testing." Both boys grinned at him innocently, and he rolled his eyes. Nodding to Bilbo, Ori and Bofur he turned on his heel and jogged to catch up to the other second year boys.

"It's like he doesn't trust us at all," Fili complained, walking in the opposite direction.

"Should he?" Bilbo couldn't help but ask, and the answering smirks he received made him shudder.

"Probably not," the boys said in tandem.

Ahead of them, an elderly man was herding students into the building behind him. Tall and with a long grey beard, the man sported dull grey robes and walking stick. Bilbo wondered vaguely if the man was senile; his wardrobe certainly seemed to hint it. Sharp blue eyes caught onto him, and the teenager shivered at the intelligence that seemed so stark in the man's gaze.

Not senile then.

"First years this way please," he called pleasantly, eyes pausing on Bilbo before eventually looking away.

_That must be Gandalf_, he reasoned, glancing at the teacher over his shoulder on the way past.

A tall stone archway stood in front of them, leading to the largest building Bilbo had ever seen. Beautiful sweeping walkways and high ceilings took his breath away, lush green gardens thriving throughout the halls and in front of each room.

High above, written in thick metal letters the words '_Elrond's Academy for The Gifted'_ scrawled along the archway. Bilbo felt almost dizzy at the sheer size of the place.

The piercing whistle of the train sounded as it moved away, and Bilbo spun to watch it slowly meander away from the academy. Breathing deeply, he allowed himself to be dragged forward by the twins.

Ori and Bofur wandered behind the three, Ori looking almost ill and Bofur smiling unworriedly.

"Are you alright Ori?" Bilbo asked as the other boy paled further. For a moment he worried he would be sick.

"J-just a ittle nervous. Dwalin doesn't think I should worry, but I know I'll be in Beta. Both Nori and my older brother Dori were Alpha…" he trailed off, tugging at the hem of his sweater.

"Alpha and Beta?" Bilbo wondered aloud, and Bofur shrugged.

"It's not really a big deal; people with strong or destructive powers are sorted into Alpha. The rest of us with weaker or powers that aren't tangible are sorted into Beta. Lord Elrond himself would be in Beta, being a seer and all. Students just use it as an excuse to get competitive or cocky," he explained.

"Alpha students can compete with each other in matches, usually in pairs. Sometimes Beta students compete but it doesn't happen very often," Fili explained, looking over his shoulder at the others.

"I heard they were messing with the curriculum this year though," Kili interjected, "no idea why _now_ but I've heard the staff are super fickle."

The small group came upon a tall set of oak doors where the other first years hovered, some clearly nervous and others bored.

Gandalf strolled up to the group, a couple of stragglers in front of him. Tapping on the door with his stick (the wood was too large and gnarled for a cane, perhaps a staff instead?),the doors opened from within without so much as a creak.

A tall man with a long white beard and dark eyes stared out at them, slowly sauntering forward. He was clad in a crisp ivory coat, long white hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Where Gandalf's eyes were sharp with wit, this man's eyes were cold and hard.

"Ah, Saruman. I had thought you were guiding the second years tonight?" Gandalf asked, though his voice didn't sound surprised.

Saruman raised an eyebrow, stepping forward until he was in line with the other man.

"Indeed I was. Until Elrond decided my expertise would be better spent here," Saruman murmured lowly, annoyance lacing his tone. Gandalf simply nodded, though amusement lit his eyes.

Turning to the rest of the students, Saruman gestured to the doors with a flick of his wrist. Slowly, the students streamed into the room.

Bilbo tried again not to gape as he stared at an odd area sunk into the center of the marble floor, utterly at odds with the rest of the room. Roughly the size of a basketball court, the expanse had a myriad of strange objects, from piles of metal to rocks and bodies of water. The four of them pushed through to the front of the crowd, directly beside the field.

Saruman strode forward, stepping onto a small podium in front of the strange court. Gandalf seemed to have vanished altogether, and the doors slammed closed with a resounding bang.

"As most of you are aware, I am Saruman Whyte, though you may simply refer to me by my first name as the academy policy dictates. This," he swept a hand behind him, "is the practice arena. We of course have a much larger facility than this in the main gymnasium, but I assure you this will be sufficient," he drawled, seeming bored. "When I call your name, step forward. Show me your gift using the arena if you must, and then get out of the way. I certainly have enough of you to test before the nights out."

Frowning, Bilbo looked around the room. At least he wasn't the only one left off-kilter by the dismissive tone, the addition of which only grated on his nerves further.

"Azog," he called out, and a large, muscled pale boy stepped forward. He glared viciously at Bilbo, shouldering him and several other students out of his way. Kili and Fili steadied him, glaring daggers back at the larger teen.

"Asshole," Ori muttered, and Bilbo blinked in surprise for a moment at the curse from the smaller boy.

Hopping down to the arena easily, the boy smirked at them.

"Begin," Saruman ordered.

Breathing deeply, Azog spread his hands out, palms up on either side of his body. The lights above began to flicker violently, and a dark shape began to take form in front of him.

Thick, black tendrils of shadow licked up from the ground, swirling together. Azog grinned, wide and feral as a snarl rang through the air, lifting all the hairs on the back of Bilbo's neck. Slowly, the tendrils began to coagulate, oozing into a large shape that came up to the boys shoulder.

The ooze congealed and hardened, as thick white fur sprouted and wickedly curved claws burst through. Bilbo was reminded of Bifur's shifted arm this morning, though he had felt no fear at the time.

Now, as the monstrous wolf-like creature threw its head back in a bone chilling howl, muscles bunching and long canines exposed, Bilbo felt fear.

And when it barrelled towards him, Bilbo felt terror.


	3. The Drawing

"Enough!" Saruman snapped, throwing a hand out.

Bilbo gasped, staring at the wispy and flowing grey figure of the creature, jaws centimetres from his face.

Its putrid breath washed over him, the stench of death and decay making him sick. He was close enough to see the black grime within its mouth and fangs, and the yellow of its eyes as it glared at him. Bilbo froze in shock.

_It could still see him._

Saruman threw the beast across the room with a sweep of his hand, a loud yelp sounding before it vanished leaving a dark black mark scorched against the otherwise pristine marble.

Bilbo felt the blood drain from his face as he focused enough to reappear.

The twins, Ori and Bofur all rushed to him at once, and he struggled to keep the wave of nausea down. An odd buzzing sounded in his ears, and it took him a moment to realise they were speaking.

"Bilbo! Are you ok?"

He looked up at them for a moment, nodding briefly. Abruptly, the world seemed to shift on its axis.

"Nope," he gasped, before everything faded to black.

/

The first thing he noticed was the scent of disinfectant, and he scrunched his face up in annoyance. Blearily, Bilbo opened his eyes and winced at the bright light that met him.

The walls were ivory, and the room held such a sterile feel that Bilbo was certain he was in some kind of sick bay. He groaned, running a hand over his face in exasperation.

"You're awake," a deep voice stated, and Bilbo started in surprise.

In the thin plastic chair to the left of his bed sat Thorin, one leg crossed over the other, looking for all the world as though he were on a throne. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, two small braids Bilbo hadn't noticed before framing his face.

It wasn't until the older boy rose an eyebrow at him that Bilbo realised he was staring like an idiot.

"Uh yes, yes I am…I uh…what happened?" he scrambled to ask, flinching as he realised how stupid he sounded.

Smooth Baggins, very smooth.

Thorin's face darkened slightly and he clenched his fists. Bilbo blinked in surprise.

"You were attacked by that filth Bolg's little brother, Azog."

Bilbo sucked in a breath as the memory returned, the huge white beast snarling and staring right through him. He felt the blood rush from his face and he shivered, despite the blankets piled over him.

"I remember," he mumbled to his lap, and beside him Thorin sighed.

"That was several hours ago now. Kili, Fili, Ori and Bofur all refused to leave your side- I had to convince them I would stay instead or they never would have gone for dinner," he finished, the corners of his lips twisting as if fighting a smile.

Bilbo felt a surge of affection for them, and he smiled widely.

"I know you all only just met me, but somehow I feel…I dunno…" he trailed off, flushing slightly. Thorin levelled him with a knowing look.

"Like you belong?"

Bilbo glanced up sharply in surprise, and Thorin met his gaze shrewdly. He felt the inside of his stomach squirm with butterflies, and he nodded hesitantly.

"Your parents are normal, aren't they?"

Bilbo instantly felt himself freeze up, heart hammering in his chest in shock. The butterflies were replaced by a sick churning tension that made it hard to breathe.

Oh god, he _knew._

Bilbo looked back down at his lap, picking at the fraying edges of the sickbay blanket. A small thrill of fear surged through him and a lump formed in his throat.

"Yes," he mumbled after a moment, ignoring the sinking and tingling of his insides. Thorin said nothing, merely stared at him, eyes searching.

"Why did you bother hiding it?" he asked, and now Bilbo could hear the scorn in his voice.

The writhing feeling inside his stomach doubled and he had to focus on breathing for a moment before he became invisible. Dimly, he realised his hands were shaking.

"I…I don't…" he stammered, and dammit why could he never think of anything to say? "I'm sorry…I should, um…" he made to move off the bed, not daring to meet the other's hard stare.

"Don't do it again," Thorin said softly, and Bilbo swung his eyes up to the 16 year old in surprise.

Sharp cobalt had softened, becoming almost molten.

"I- I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't do it again," he repeated, "Don't try to hide who you are, you hold back far too much. Stop apologising," he said firmly. Bilbo felt his jaw go slack in shock, before clenching it with a click.

Thorin stepped forward, closer into his space and Bilbo fought the urge to shrink under the blanket.

"Do you have any idea what Bofur's gift is?"

Bilbo blinked stupidly for a moment, train of thought utterly derailed. Before he could say anything, Thorin stepped closer again, eyes narrowed.

"Intuition," he continued, voice softer. "Bofur's gift is intuition- he senses things, things humans shouldn't be able to. We were _meant_ to meet that day on the train," he finished, his voice strong with conviction.

Bilbo stared back at him, emerald eyes wide. A tense moment passed, before a soft knocking cut through the silence like a knife.

Before either boy could say anything further, an older man entered the small room, door creaking closed at his back. Smiling widely at them, he seemed to have no idea of the tension that hung around the room.

His thick hair was dark, streaks of silver shooting through it. Bilbo was oddly reminded of Gloin, and wondered fleetingly if they were related.

Thorin took a step back (and had he really been that close?), crossing his arms gruffly. Bilbo sat up straighter in the bed, running a hand through his curls self-consciously.

"My name is Oin; I'm the main healer at the Academy," he said cheerily, striding forwards to rest a hand on his arm.

The teen blinked at the hand in confusion. Glancing at Thorin, the other boy continued to stare intently at the opposite wall, glaring at the faded anatomical posters as if they had done him personal insult. Bilbo felt a sharp chill and, with a start, realised the healer's hand was glowing green.

"And…all good," Oin muttered to himself, releasing the teen's arm as the green glow faded. "You're free to go."

"Thankyou," Bilbo said, but Oin continued out the door without looking up, whistling to himself.

"I think you'll find the healer quite deaf," Thorin murmured, scuffing his boot on the marble floor with forced casualness.

"Ah, I see," Bilbo replied, wincing at just how _awkward_ the room had suddenly gotten.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stepped down onto the floor. The cold against his feet almost stung, and he quickly threw on his shoes. Thorin uncrossed his arms, pulling his coat closer and heading toward the door.

Glancing over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows in a universal 'coming or not?' gesture, and Bilbo didn't miss that his eyes were fixed on his shoulder.

Straightening, Bilbo nodded and followed him into the main medical building and through the doors into the outer hall.

The leaves and flowers of the garden swayed softly, a small breeze moving through the hall. Ahead of him, Thorin lead him in a random direction, twisting and turning through the corridors. Bilbo shivered, rubbing his arms at the crisp mountain air and glancing left and right. None of it seemed to look familiar.

"You…uh, you know where you're going right?" he asked hesitantly, remembering the train. Thorin snorted, running a hand along the wall as they walked, fingertips barely brushing against the smooth stone.

"I've never lost my way here," he said after a moment, dropping his hand back to his side. Bilbo stared curiously at his back, but the other teen either didn't notice or ignored him.

A stairwell spiralled in front of him, leading down into the ground. Bilbo glanced at him questioningly, and Thorin rolled his eyes.

"This is the first year boy's dorm, I think Beta is on the left?" he explained, though it sounded more like a question.

"So I was sorted into Beta," Bilbo said flatly, and Thorin nodded. Turning to leave, the taller boy paused, glancing over at him.

"Are you…disappointed?"

Bilbo paused, thinking for a moment. Eventually, he shrugged.

"I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. I think…perhaps I'm ok with it. Ori had seemed upset at the notion," he murmured.

"I'm…glad," he said after a beat, shrugging. "I'll uh…see you at breakfast," he murmured, nodding to him before walking back the way he came.

"Hey Thorin?" Bilbo called out, and the older teen looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks for…well you know," he gestured uselessly, flushing slightly, "for everything."

Thorin's eyes widened for a second before hurriedly staring at the ground, squaring his shoulders. He nodded gruffly, and Bilbo smiled. The younger teen turned to the stairs, hand brushing the stone rail.

"Goodnight, Thorin," he called over his shoulder, the sound of his worn sneakers against the stone floor fading away into the stairwell.

For a long moment Thorin stood there, well after the soft footfalls were drowned out by the sound of his own heart beating frantically in his chest.

"Goodnight," he mumbled to the empty hall.

/

The next morning was an intense affair, and Bilbo wished he had the chance to eat more than the two meagre pieces of toast he had grabbed. Thorin had (for once, apparently) led him to the right dorm the night before, having found both of his small bags next to a single bunk.

After Bilbo had been rushed to the sickbay Saruman had forced the other students to finish their testing regardless, though stern words on conduct were spoken. The testing had only taken an hour or so, each student eager to attend dinner and many unnerved by the incident with Azog.

Bofur and Ori had been placed in Beta, to Ori's chagrin. Bofur hadn't minded in the least, taking the news with his usual calm contentment.

Fili and Kili were sorted into Alpha, much to their delight.

"See Uncle, now you get to see more of us!" Kili exclaimed enthusiastically, throwing an arm over Thorin's shoulder.

"Just think of the possibilities!" Fili added. "We can train together-"

"Eat together-,"

"Study together,-"

"Play together,-"

"Mmph!"

Thorin clamped a hand over his nephew's mouth, successfully predicting which would talk next. Fili struggled for a moment before Thorin finally released him.

"His Majesty isn't much of a morning person," Kili whispered to Bilbo. Thorin's eye twitched and he flicked a salt shaker at the younger teen with a scowl. Kili squeaked in surprise, just catching it before it hit him in the face.

"_His_ _Highness_ thinks he can whisper, but it's really a quiet scream," he growled back, stabbing at his bacon and eggs. Kili pouted and Fili rubbed his back soothingly, muttering about cruel uncles and mistreatment.

It seemed Thorin was over whatever the night before had been, and Bilbo was glad to see his friend was alright and no longer so awkward.

Shaking his head, Bilbo had just finished his toast when he felt eyes on his back. Twisting in his seat, he glanced around the dining hall.

The room was enormous, with a number of large wooden tables in rows, each able to hold a good 15 or so students. The ceiling arched up far above them, intricate leaf designs carved into the rock and spiralling down pillars around the hall. Bilbo stiffened in his seat, appetite vanishing.

Two tables away Azog glared at him, eyes narrowed and leaning forward. Conversation at his table came to a lull and the others he sat with seemed to notice who he was looking at. One of his friends held a hand daintily to his head, pretending to swoon.

Bilbo quickly spun around, flushing lightly. Gloin, having noticed the exchange, threw a rude gesture to the other table with a sneer.

"Bastards, if I had my axe…Ignore them, they thrive on the attention lad," the ginger haired teen growled to Bilbo.

"Your axe?" he asked curiously, eager to change the conversation topic. Gloin grinned proudly.

"Aye, it's my gift; I summon a giant axe, biggest you've ever seen! No one else in the world can lift it," he boasted, and Bilbo smiled.

"If you ask me, I reckon he's overcompensating for somethin'," Dwalin muttered around his bacon, and Bifur snorted with laughter into his juice.

Suddenly Ori stiffened, dropping his fork with a clatter against his plate. His small frame shook violently, and Nori quickly lunged to his feet.

"His sketchpad! Someone grab his sketchpad!" he exclaimed, as Dwalin upended the contents of Ori's satchel in a rush.

Bilbo stared in shock, as Nori grabbed his brother's spasming hand, forcing a pen into it. Dwalin shoved the pad beneath Ori's hand as he stilled. The younger teen's eyes rolled back into his head, white staring forward unseeingly.

His hand began to move systematically over the pad, sharp horizontal movements leaving a myriad of straight lines over the paper.

Bilbo shivered at the vacant stare opposite him, tearing his gaze away from his friend. The others at the table were glancing up every now and then but did not seem surprised. Dwalin and Nori wore similar expressions of hidden worry, and it occurred to Bilbo this was the first time he had seen Ori's older brother without a smirk.

"Ori's gift is really more of a curse," Bofur said glumly, and Bilbo looked back to the boy in front of him in sympathy.

"He started having these fits…we had no idea what the hell to do," Nori murmured, staring at his brother across the table. "They started on his 15th birthday, so we knew it had something to do with his gift, but we didn't…a full three hours he sat there, shaking and pale with his eyes rolled back in his head-" he broke off for a moment, swallowing thickly.

"He would eventually pass out, but when he came to he couldn't focus. It was like he was somewhere else…After a few days, we noticed his hand would shake the worst, like trying to grab something. Dwalin actually had the idea to give him a pen," Nori finished, and Bilbo glanced back at the paper.

The straight lines seemed to form a picture, and Bilbo stared at the clarity. It was still unfinished but he could see a figure clearly, almost like a photograph. The person looked almost familiar.

"What does he draw?" he asked after a moment, wrenching his eyes from the bizarre sketching. It was Dwalin who answered, voice gruff and eyebrows furrowed.

"The future."

Before Bilbo could think of a response, the bell rang loudly, sound amplified through the stone halls. Everyone but Dwalin, Nori and Ori climbed to their feet, some scoffing a last minute piece of bacon or downing their juice quickly.

Noticing the other's hesitance, Nori waved them on.

"He'll be done soon, we'll catch up," he said confidently, and Dwalin nodded to Thorin.

"I'll be ready for second period," he promised, and Thorin clapped a hand to his shoulder briefly, scooping up his own pack in a smooth movement a second later.

"What's happening second period?" Bilbo asked without thinking, flushing slightly at Dwalin's raised eyebrow.

"You'll see," Thorin said, cocky smirk in place. Bilbo stared at the older boy for a moment suspiciously before arms were looped through both of his own, a twin on either side.

"Good luck, you two," Fili and Kili called back over their shoulder in tandem, dragging Bilbo down the hall with them and missing the scowl on their uncle's face. Bofur jogged up to them, cramming his woolly hat on his head with a grin.

Stumbling along beside the twins, Bilbo huffed in annoyance.

"First match of the season, before you ask," Fili said with his customary grin. Bilbo stared at him in confusion.

"Uncle and Dwalin versus Thranduil and Bolg."

/

A/N: Hey guys! Still in the midst of my exam study (ugh) so updates won't come out much faster until i finish them all- maybe the 13th or something? Thought I'd add that this story is un-betaed so let me know if there are any stupid spelling errors or something. I'm always typing 'throin' instead of thorin and then laughing cos its so close to groin *mature adult i swear*

I'm over at AO3 too if that's more your flavour under xxemily92xx or just look up 'the gifted' :)


	4. The Match

**A/N **Hey guys- thanks so much for all the support! You guys are the best :D  
I don't often write fight scenes, but for this fic I'm gonna have to :P if anything could be better or you have any tips feel free to pass them on- I don't have a beta reader or anything so the more feedback and constructive crit the better.

Without further ado, Thorin vs Thrandy!  
(and i guess Bolg and Dwalin are there too...)

/

Bilbo, for perhaps the tenth time in as many minutes, stared at the clock hung on the back wall. A forlorn plastic thing, it looked comically out of place against the sleek marble, the outer white plastic yellowing slightly with age.

The thin black hand on the face ticked slower if possible, and Bilbo could have sworn it was mocking him.

Glaring at the device, the teenager shifted in his seat and attempted to at least _look_ like he was paying attention, though he continued to flick his pen to and fro in impatience.

All around him, Bilbo noticed other students doing the same, whispering among themselves and others ignoring the class altogether. He felt a pang of sympathy for the middle aged staff member (Bolin? Balin?)as he doggedly continued outlining various wars and skirmishes on the board.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, the man tapped a marker against the whiteboard with a sharp click, the sound attracting the class's attention once more.

"Now, who can give me the name of a war or battle that has occurred during the last 100 years? Anyone?" he prompted, and when none seemed forthcoming he pointed a marker at a student randomly.

"You. Name of a war. Go," he ordered, oddly bushy eyebrows furrowing.

From beside him, Bilbo could see Fili and Kili's identical smirks as they stared at the rapidly paling student in amusement.

Squaring his shoulders, the boy mumbled something inaudible. Frowning, Balin leaned forward, bushy eyebrows lowering further.

"Can't hear a word you're saying lad, try again," he said to the boy, and Bilbo felt a surge of pity for the flushing student. The twins snickered softly, and Bilbo frowned disapprovingly at the back of their heads.

"The…The Mordor Incident," he finally squeaked out, and Balin straightened with an approving nod.

Fili and Kili froze.

"Ah yes, the Mordor Incident, 15 years ago. Now, who can tell me…" The rest of the teacher's words faded into the background as Bilbo stared at the stockstill twins in concern.

Backs ramrod straight and faces pale and blank, both boys shared a long glance. Swallowing thickly, Fili pushed his chair back with a scrape, the grating sound echoing through the room.

Balin paused in his enthusiastic scribbling on the board as both twins grinned up at him, though Bilbo could see neither expression reached their eyes.

"Wasn't that the one with the guy who turned into a troll?" Fili asked, head tilted in thought.

"No, you're thinking of the battle of-"Balin began, before Kili cut him off.

"No! _Obviously _it was the one with the horde of summoned goblins."

"No again, that was Moria-"

"Now you're just being stupid Kee! It was the one with that one guy who did that thing-"

"That doesn't even-"

"_Oh!_ You mean _that _one, with the army."

Balin didn't bother saying anything further, as the twins continued to banter. Bilbo winced slightly in sympathy as the middle aged man began to pinch the bridge of his nose again.

In front of him, Bofur twisted slightly to meet Bilbo's gaze with a troubled expression.

Before either boy could do anything further, the bell rang with a shrill screech, the clang reverberating through the stone halls.

All at once students lunged for their books and bags, leaving the room as quickly as possible. Turning, Bilbo noticed with a start that both twins were already out the door.

Bofur nudged him on the shoulder as he passed, and the teen shook his head before following him into the corridor.

"What just happened?" he asked as the two made their way through the flood of students. The twins were nowhere in sight and Bilbo assumed they'd gone on ahead to the gymnasium.

"They don't like to talk about the Mordor Incident much, I don't know the full story but I think it has something to do with their Dad," Bofur murmured lowly, and Bilbo paused.

"Their dad?"

Bofur nodded. "Been missing 15 years, no one knows what happened to him. Assumed dead," he finished grimly.

Suddenly the episode in the classroom made a lot more sense.

"Oh…I had no idea…" he murmured sadly, and Bofur elbowed him with a smile.

"Oi, no time for that, we have a match to attend," he said cheerily, attempting to lift the mood. Despite himself, Bilbo felt a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips.

"So, explain it to me- I've never seen one before," he asked, and Bofur glanced at him in surprise.

"You must be from a normal family, I knew it! Gloin owes me his pudding," he said brightly, and Bilbo flinched.

"You…it doesn't bother you?"

Bofur blinked at him slowly, as if he were staring at a particularly dense child.

"No…why would it?"

Bilbo felt an odd tightness in his chest. All the time he had spent worrying…and for no reason. The only place he would be ridiculed would be…

_Home, _he thought grimly, swallowing past a lump in his throat as his father's face sprung to mind. The faces of those he'd called his friends, staring and muttering to each other as he and his father drove past, the dark tint of the windows hiding his drawn features.

Blinking at the harsh light of the sun as the two stepped out of the tall oak doors, Bilbo focused back on the present.

"Nevermind, not important," he muttered, waving a hand casually. Bofur rose an eyebrow, shrugging to himself as the two reached the large gymnasium.

"Basically, a match is 2 vs 2 battle of gifts. Every hit you land on an opposing Gifted gets you a point. Aim of the game is to defeat the other team in points. You have to hit each opposing Gifted twice before you can end the game, either by physically pushing at least one of them over the line at the end of the field or by trapping both of them at the same time," he explained, tugging off his woolly hat once they entered the gym.

"Trapping them?"

"You know, like tying them up or pinning them with a blade to the throat. Don't worry though- no one is ever injured badly," Bofur assured him hurriedly, noticing Bilbo's wide eyes.

The gym was a giant stone structure like the rest of the academy, with white marble flooring and a high ceiling with intricate carvings that looked almost like flowers littered along the walls and pillars.

The huge field in the center made the room unique, the expanse easily twice the size of the training room court. Similarly, rocks, steel, trees and what appeared to be a small river on one side filled the space.

"All the first and second years are here to watch," Ori said from behind them, and Bilbo started in surprise.

"Ori! You're alright now?"

The smaller teen nodded, waving off his concern. "Don't worry about it; happens all the time."

"I bet Uncle's loving all this attention," Kili said as Fili snickered, the two leaning against the railing on the edge of the arena. Noticing the others, the blonde quickly shuffled over to make room.

"Kick their asses!" Kili shrieked loudly, wide grin in place as Thorin and Dwalin stepped out and onto the arena from below them. Both wore what looked to Bilbo like racing suits, zipped up to their throats.

Clad in a tight royal blue, Thorin wore his hair in a high ponytail, his sleek black helmet tucked under one arm. Turning to smirk up at them, Bilbo felt his insides fill with butterflies as the older boy's blue gaze locked onto his own nervous emerald one.

"Good luck guys!" Ori called from beside him, making Bilbo jump and Thorin hurriedly glance away, scuffing his boot against the ground.

Dwalin muttered something in his ear and the 16 year old blanched, shoving the other boy in the shoulder as he laughed uproariously.

Dwalin wore a similar suit to Thorin, though his was completely black. Still grinning, he waved a hand up to them, nodding to Ori.

"Won't be needing it, but thanks anyway," he called out cockily, smirking at the two other students who had stepped onto the field.

A tall, slim boy with white-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail sneered at them, crossing his green clad arms in disdain. Thorin glared heatedly back, and Bilbo could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"That one in the green is Thranduil," Bofur pointed out, perhaps a tad unnecessarily, Bilbo thought to himself.

"Last year Thranduil and Thorin were partnered together in a match against this kid called Smaug and Bolg, over there," he pointed to a figure beside Thranduil, his suit a dull grey without sleeves.

"It was the grand final of the season," Nori added, Bifur and Gloin beside him, "really close one too. Both sides had been hit like, four or five times I think so they were looking to end it. Anyway, at the last second Thranduil's attack went wide, leaving his flank exposed. Bolg aimed a hit but Thorin blocked it, which is what you do for your partner right? So that left him open to Smaug's fire attack, but he trusted Thranduil to cover him-"

"Only the asshole didn't," Fili interjected irritably.

"He saved himself and jumped out of the way, Thorin was hit from both sides. Ended up with a nasty burn to his shoulder too, since Bolg's attack tore his suit," Nori continued, frowning down at the arena.

"And then the tree shagger forfeited! Can you believe it?" Kili growled, glaring across the field.

"Tree shagger? That's…original," Bilbo mumbled, shaking his head in amusement. Kili gaped at him in exasperation.

"_That's_ what you took from the conversation?!"

Before either could reply, a loud siren blared. Both pairs on the field stepped onto a line at opposite ends of the arena, everyone donning their helmets with the exception of Bolg.

"What's wrong with that guy's suit? He doesn't have a helmet either," Bilbo said to Bofur, gesturing to the figure across the other side of the court.

"He doesn't need protection, a full suit and helmet would get in the way of his gift. You'll see," the teen added at Bilbo's confused expression.

A second siren blared in three quick bursts, and with that both teams began to move.

Bolg's skin rippled for a moment before becoming metallic, his entire body turning to steel. With a grin he smashed both fists together before racing forward. Thranduil hung back behind him, hands outstretched and head bowed for a moment.

Dwalin surged forward to meet Bolg, snarling as he threw a punch. Bolg caught his fists and the two grappled, locked in a battle of strength.

"Super strength, before you ask," Ori piped up, eyes never leaving the match.

"And Bolg can change his DNA to whatever substance he wants," Bofur added.

Bilbo simply stared in amazement as the two broke free of one another, circling and assessing the other's movements.

Thranduil snapped his head up suddenly, sweeping his arm towards Thorin at the opposite end of the field. Thick green vines the width of Bilbo's torso shot out of the ground, shooting toward the other teen.

Tree shagger made sense now.

Thorin didn't move, staring unflinchingly at the green tendrils barrelling toward him. Bilbo felt his heart leap to his throat as he gripped the cool metal railing in front of him tightly, knuckles turning white.

At the last second Thorin stamped his boot against the ground, grin visible beneath the clear visor of his helmet.

A solid slab of stone shot up from below, blocking the attack.

With a sharp kick, Thorin sent the metre thick slab hurtling toward Thranduil at startling speed, the latter using his vines to lift him above the rock.

"That's amazing!" Bilbo exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

Sharp spikes of rock sprung from the ground, launching toward the green clad figure at breakneck speed. Each time, Thranduil dodged, his vines and branches entwined around him as he was pulled left and right in evasion.

Thorin threw up rock shields constantly, blocking each attack the other managed to throw at him.

On the other side of the field, Dwalin gave a roar as he threw one of the court's boulders at Bolg who smashed through the centre of it, the rock crumbling to dust and fragments. Lurching forward through the dust cloud, Bolg landed a solid punch to Dwalin's jaw with a grunt.

A sharp burst of the siren went off, indicating a point.

Catching Bolg's fist in a quick movement, Dwalin threw the teen bodily through the air. Another burst went off, and Ori cheered.

Thorin and Thranduil barely glanced at their team mates, so focused on one another as vegetation and stone slammed together.

"Are you still sore about last year then?" Thranduil called, vines lifting him over a particularly vicious stone projectile.

Throwing his head back, the blonde's laugh rang out over the crash of their battle.

"I'll take that as a yes then, you always could hold a grudge Thorin."

Thorin snarled, hurling another wave of spikes shooting through the ground at his enemy.

"Shut your damn mouth!"

"I can see why you would be testy though; I heard it left a nasty scar," he taunted, flicking his wrist minutely. A thin vine crept behind the other teen, unnoticed as Thorin glared at his opponent in a rage.

"Uncle!" Fili and Kili cried out, as the vine inched closer. Thorin didn't seem to hear them, redoubling his efforts to hit the smirking blonde ahead of him.

"Stop talking you traitorous sack of-" Thorin was cut off as the vine slammed into his side, flinging him across the field and into the marble wall of the arena. A loud crash rang out and he crumpled, summoning a sphere of rock to surround him.

Another blast of the siren went off, and Bilbo leaned as far forward as he could against the railing.

"Is he alright?!" he asked worriedly, image of the older teen's body crumpling fresh in his mind.

"If he can still make a shield, he'll be ok," Gloin said from behind them, resting a hand on each of the twin's shoulders.

Thranduil sauntered forward, inspecting his nails in apparent boredom as his vines slammed against the ball of rock over and over.

The stone suddenly shattered with an ear splitting crack under the force of Thranduil's gift, and the boy grinned as the thick green tendrils shot into the sphere, breaking it from the inside.

"Thorin!" Dwalin cried out in shock, unable to do anything but watch as he struggled against Bolg, the two once more locked in a grapple.

A thick blanket of dust fell over the area, and Bilbo squinted in an attempt to make out a figure.

Growling, Dwalin pushed harder at Bolg. The teen sent a solid kick to his opponent's side, denting the steel of the boy's torso.

The siren blasted once more, as Bolg lurched out of the hold.

Staring at his body in surprise, he shifted once more, skin hardening and sparkling blindingly for a moment.

_Diamond,_ Bilbo realised in surprise.

Once more Bolg threw himself forward as the two continued wrestling against one another.

The dust finally settled, and Bilbo started in shock.

Thorin was not there.

Thranduil paused in confusion, hesitating as he glanced around the arena. The pause was enough for Thorin to burst from the ground behind him, a slab of rock slamming into the blonde's back.

Thranduil cried out in shock, his vines catching him before he collided with the outer wall.

Again, the siren sounded.

"Finish it!" Fili and Kili shouted as one, practically hanging over the railing in their excitement.

Dwalin suddenly broke off from his fight with Bolg, running toward his team mate with a grin. Glancing up, Thorin caught his eye and nodded.

"What the- oi!" Bolg called after him, clearly confused before his face darkened in anger. Snarling, the teen chased after Dwalin.

Thorin threw another slab toward Thranduil and slammed his boot against the ground. Easily dodging, the blonde side stepped the slab with a sneer.

A sneer that disappeared as Bolg slammed his fist into his team mate's face.

With a sweep of his hand, Thorin threw Bolg against the outer railing with a bang, over the line. Thranduil stared dumbly at him.

"Diamond is a rock, dumbass," Thorin called to the two, feral grin in place.

Three loud bursts of the siren went off as the students cheered, Dwalin throwing an arm around the teen's shoulders.

"Yes! Take that you tree shagging piece of shit!" Kili shouted over the arena, and Fili whistled shrilly with the crowd.

Tugging off his helmet and dropping it to his feet, Thorin turned toward them.

His face was smeared with dirt and sweat, framed by strands of black hair that had come loose during the match and huffing in exhaustion. But as he grinned up at them, blue eyes alight with triumph, Bilbo thought Thorin had never looked more attractive.

And then promptly found himself choking on his own saliva.

_Attractive?!_


	5. The Headmaster's Office

**A/N **Hey guys, sorry its late, hope you like it ^^ as always, let me know what you thought

/

Heart hammering wildly in his chest, Bilbo tore his gaze from the boy in the arena to the smooth marble beneath his feet, the unblemished white surface beneath his worn sneakers a comfort to his swirling thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, he ran an only slightly shaking hand through his curls and resisted (somehow) the urge to bang his head against something.

_Good job, as if being startlingly ignorant wasn't enough, you had to go and indulge your Took blood too!_

Scrubbing a hand dejectedly over his burning face, Bilbo almost cried out in surprise as a hand clapped him on the shoulder. Jerking his head up sharply, he willed away his flush as Bofur's tattered wool hat swam into view.

A small furrow had appeared between the boy's brows as he cocked his head to one side in concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine, never better in fact!" Bilbo spluttered, taking a small step back. His heart picked up speed once more, the rushing in his ears almost drowning out the sound of the hundreds of students surrounding them. Swallowing thickly, he rubbed a hand against his chest absently.

In front of him, Bofur froze. Brown eyes widened, shifting from Bilbo's chest and following something unseen to the still grinning and utterly oblivious brunette in the arena below. A wide grin spread over the boy's features, and Bilbo found himself praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Yeah, I bet you are," the boy said teasingly, and Bilbo had the fleeting thought that if he flushed anymore he would probably pass out.

Which would probably not be so bad, he reasoned.

"Oi, whats up with Boggins?!" Kili called loudly from behind him, the unexpected volume sending his heart rate skyrocketing and his insides dropping. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut as buzzing broke out over his body, dulling to a soft hum beneath his skin.

With a huff of annoyance, Bilbo opened his eyes to squint at the amused faces of his friends, their features shifting and ebbing in shades of grey.

"Naw, don't be like that Bilbo!" Fili said chirpily from his brother's side, his voice warping and muffling as if he were underwater.

All around him students shifted in an almost indistinguishable sea of grey, the crowd blurring and distorting together until it almost looked like one large cloud of smoke. The shrieks and laughter fell thickly on his ears, and Bilbo repressed a shiver.

The skin on the back of his neck began to prickle unpleasantly, and Bilbo raised a hand to rub at the spot as his insides shifted in discomfort. Uneasily, the teen turned to glance at the crowd behind him and sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.

Brilliant white light shone brightly from amidst the sea of grey, its brilliance leaving Bilbo wanting to rub his eyes.

_A man, _Bilbo realised, _it's a man…_

The man in question sat on a raised platform with the other staff members, his features sharp and clear, devoid of the wispy quality of the rest of the world. His dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, face drawn in a frown.

Turning his head, the man met Bilbo's shocked gaze with one of his own.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Bilbo breathed in deeply. Steadily, the prickling and buzzing over his skin faded as the suddenly clear sound of the crowd left his ears ringing. Opening his eyes, the teen's gaze flew over the staff seats. He saw no sign of the man at all.

Something must have shown on his face as Ori nudged his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern.

Blinking rapidly for a moment, Bilbo mentally shook himself and smiled with more confidence than he felt. After a beat, the concern faded from his friend's face, though Ori still seemed a little wary.

Before the boy could say anything further, he was swept up in an excited bear hug by Dwalin, the older boy easily lifting the younger into his arms in excitement. Ori gave a cry of shock before laughing brightly, and the twins made gagging noises at the scene.

Bilbo smiled brightly at the two, the expression feeling more real this time as he watched his friends laugh (and glare, in Nori's case), and promptly pushed all thoughts of the mystery man to the back of his mind. Bofur grinned widely at the two and Gloin clapped Dwalin on the back hard enough for him to stumble forward half a step. Bifur signed in a flurry of motion, looking almost manic, and Bilbo felt his smile widen.

Thorin came to a stop beside him after a moment, his dark blue clad arm barely brushing against Bilbo's own. Swallowing thickly, the younger teen willed away the flush that had sprung to his cheeks.

"Rock, huh?" he murmured, eyes never leaving the group in front of him for fear of what the other boy might see in them. Beside him, Thorin glanced down at auburn curls with a smile.

"Are you surprised?"

"I think it makes sense, you seem stubborn enough for rock," he added and Thorin snorted.

"Every rock or stone in my vicinity is like a…a whisper, I guess, at the back of my head. I can feel them and control them."

"That's how you don't get lost here, isn't it? The academy is made of marble…" he breathed, and Thorin blushed lightly at the look of amazement Bilbo turned to him with.

"I…-"

"Uncle!"

Thorin let out a grunt as both twins barrelled into him, grinning widely and letting out cheers. The commotion attracted the attention of the rest of the group, and before long the brunette found himself swarmed just as Dwalin had been.

Bilbo chuckled as he noticed the firm frown the older boy wore wavered slightly at the edges.

A throat cleared behind his shoulder, and with a start the teen spun around to find Gandalf smiling at him warmly.

"Good morning, Bilbo Baggins, I presume?" the old man said brightly, and Bilbo blinked up at him stupidly for a moment before his manners kicked in.

"Ah! Y-yes, sorry sir," he spluttered, and Gandalf held out a hand with a chuckle, grasping Bilbo's own in a surprisingly firm grip.

"You may refer to me simply as Gandalf. Now, I was wondering if I might have a word? In the headmaster's office?" he added.

"Yes, yes ofcourse but-"

"Excellent! Right this way," Gandalf said over the top of him, and Bilbo shot one last look at his oblivious friends before he was following the older man through the crowd and into the twists and turns of the academy halls.

As the two continued to walk through hall after hall, Gandalf humming a merry sounding tune as they went, he felt himself grow more nervous.

"Am I…am I in some sort of trouble?" he asked hesitantly, and Gandalf paused in his humming to throw a glance at the teen from over his shoulder.

"Have you done something wrong?"

"W-well no-"

"Then you have nothing to fear, my boy," the old man said cheerfully, resuming his humming and marching on ahead. Bilbo sighed, catching up to him.

Before long, tall mahogany doors stretched high above them, brushing the marble ceiling over their heads. Pulling one open, the thick wood swung open without a sound as Gandalf swept into the room. Bilbo followed quietly, staring up at the marble pillars and wide, spiral stairwell.

Eventually, they came to a smaller set of wooden doors trimmed with what appeared to be gold. Stepping through, Bilbo glanced around the large room in awe.

Thousands upon thousands of books lined the walls, from floor to ceiling and a fireplace crackled away warmly. A long, polished oak desk stood at the back of the room, and Gandalf gestured for Bilbo to take a seat.

Perching awkwardly on the edge of the seat, Bilbo clasped both hands in his lap uneasily. The leather office chair beneath him was soft, and had he not been so nervous Bilbo could envision himself sinking comfortably into it.

Rather than sit in the chair opposite Gandalf remained standing, still softly humming beneath his breath and staring at the marble wall in front of them. Movement to his left made Bilbo shift his gaze before jerking in surprise, barely catching himself from gasping dramatically.

The man Bilbo had seen this morning sunk into the chair on the other side of the table gracefully, nodding to Gandalf. From up close, Bilbo could see the man looked to be in his mid forties, the several lines marring his face making him seem more distinguished, rather than aged. His dark grey tailored suit mirrored the shade of his eyes and Bilbo supressed a shiver as the man stared at him.

"This, Mr Baggins, is Lord Elrond, headmaster and founder of the academy," Gandalf introduced, and Elrond inclined his head.

"Good morning Bilbo, thankyou for joining us-"

"How could you see me?" Bilbo blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over his mouth in horror. Elrond seemed thrown for a moment before Gandalf started laughing, shaking his head and clapping a hand to Bilbo's shoulder.

"Straight to the point, I see," the headmaster said with a soft smile, and Bilbo mumbled an apology that the man waved away.

"My gift is true sight," Elrond answered calmly, "I see all. Even glimpses of the future, at times."

"Like Ori?" he clarified, and the headmaster nodded.

"Similar, though my visions come to me as dreams. Now, would you mind telling me about your gift?" he prompted, and Bilbo straightened in his seat.

"My gift is invisibility, kinda simple really," he answered, and Elrond smiled.

"No gift is ever simple, Mr Baggins. What do you see?"

Bilbo paused, staring down at his hands. "I see grey- like all the colour fades away. Everything is all flowy, kinda like water?" he flushed, feeling foolish. Elrond gestured to continue, and Bilbo nodded.

"Everything gets kinda muffled, and my skin starts tingling."

"And when you saw me today, was I grey?" Elrond asked slowly, eyes never wavering from the boy in front of him. Bilbo shook his head, and the man's eyes slid closed, almost in resignation.

"You were a bright white."

Gandalf and Elrond exchanged a glance, and the elder man nodded.

"Bilbo, I believe you would benefit from one on one tutor sessions to better understand your gift. You may well need it," Gandalf added mysteriously, and Bilbo nodded, rising to his feet.

"After dinner, each Thursday, Gandalf will meet you in the training arena," the headmaster said, standing as well. Offering his hand, Bilbo took it, shaking politely with a nod.

"Uh…ok, thankyou?" he said awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve as he wandered past Gandalf and down the marble stairs.

When the muffled steps of the boy's sneakers faded Elrond turned, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily.

"It appears the time will be sooner than we thought, my friend," he said after a moment, and Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff in thought.

"Then he is the one?"

"It would seem so."

/

Making his way to the dining hall, Bilbo thought over the strange meeting yet again.

No matter how much he puzzled over it, the teen could make neither heads nor tails of the entire conversation. Elrond had almost seemed…like he knew what Bilbo was going to say?

Stepping past the various tables and up to the canteen, he let the various soft chatter of the hall wash over him. At this time of the day most students would be found elsewhere in the academy, having already had lunch the usual hour ago. Throwing a sandwich, bottle of juice and apple onto his tray, he began to navigate his way through the sparsely occupied tables.

Out of seemingly nowhere, someone's shoulder slammed painfully into his side, and Bilbo was thrown to the ground. His tray fell beside him with a clatter, the food and juice tumbling onto the floor.

Azog grinned down at him, hand outstretched as if to help him up as a hush fell over the hall. The pale boy's teeth almost looked pointed this close, and Bilbo tried not to shiver.

"Careful, you look like you might faint again," he said loudly, the silence broken only by the laughter of several nearby students.

Bilbo coloured and scooted backward with as much grace as he could muster (which wasn't much, admittedly), ignoring the outstretched hand and kneeling to pick up his lunch.

Reaching for the apple, Bilbo barely brushed it before Azog gave it a kick, the abused fruit skittering across the marble. He clenched his hand into a fist and rose to his feet, attempting to ignore the nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you want?" Bilbo asked quietly, refusing to rise to the bait.

Azog stepped forward, leaning into the smaller boy's space threateningly. Bilbo raised his chin in defiance.

"I'm stuck cleaning classrooms for the next week because of you," he growled, and Bilbo resolutely refused to give in to the twisting of his stomach, all his senses pushing him toward invisibility.

Suddenly, Azog was roughly shoved backwards and Bilbo felt himself pulled back gently a moment later. Glancing up, he realised with a start that Thorin now stood between them.

Across from them, Azog glared at Thorin, yellow eyes narrowed.

"This doesn't concern you Durin," he spat, and Bilbo saw the brunette square his shoulders.

"On the contrary, I think you'll find it does. I suggest you leave Bilbo alone, filth," Thorin growled out, and Azog took a step closer.

"And if I don't?"

Below them, the ground began to vibrate and Thorin clenched both hands into fists. Sensing an impending fight, Bilbo nudged the boy in front of him.

"Let's just go," he murmured, and Thorin stared at him for a moment, eyes churning with fury. "Please," he added, worrying his lip. To Bilbo's relief, the floor stopped shaking. Clenching his jaw, Thorin nodded and allowed himself to be pulled away hesitantly by the 15 year old.

Pausing, he glared over his shoulder at Azog.

"Come near him again, and I will have your head on a fucking spike."

Bilbo paled slightly at _that_ particular imagery, and continued to lead Thorin out the doors, students parting in front of them like the red sea.

As they slipped through the doors and into the hall, Bilbo could still feel the heated glare aimed at his back.

_That could have gone better…_


	6. The Recovery

The moment the door shut behind them Thorin spun Bilbo to face him with a hand on the boy's shoulder. The vast marble hall was empty, their soft breaths the only sound in an otherwise silent corridor. Blue eyes flicked over his form and Bilbo felt himself flush brightly, his earlier revelation stark in his mind.

A wave of shame swept over him, his insides twisting with it, and Bilbo stared down at his faded sneakers uneasily. If he were in a story, the teen was almost certain who the damsel in distress was.

Although, if he were the damsel, did that make Thorin…?

_No, stop it._

"Are you injured?" the older boy asked gruffly, dark eyes settling on his face. Bilbo shook his head mutely, and Thorin sighed, his hand leaving the smaller teen's shoulder to run through his hair. From this close Bilbo could see a handful of silver strands at each temple, and found himself wondering what could make a 16 year old go grey so early.

Bofur's words from earlier sprang unbidden in his mind, and Bilbo flinched.

…_missing 15 years, no one knows what happened to him. Assumed dead._

A lump formed in his throat and Bilbo hastily dropped his gaze to the safety of his shoes. The memory was a stark reminder of just how little he knew of the teen in front of him, of his family and friends and what they had been through.

"I-I'm sorry," he blurted out, and Thorin paused, staring down at him in question, "I should have done something…I just…" he trailed off uselessly, shame twisting in his belly.

Growing up in the shire (a small town where everyone knew everyone) he had never needed to deal with bullies, let alone gifted ones. Sure, there was the occasional Took or Brandybuck who thought it would be funny to steal his schoolbag for the day or the Sackvilles who he had often quarrelled with- certainly never anything like his confrontation with Azog.

And yet, Thorin had shown more courage in that one moment than Bilbo had in his life.

No hesitation.

Thorin said nothing for a long moment, before placing a hand on both Bilbo's shoulders. With a small squeak of surprise, the younger teen's gaze flicked up to meet warm blue.

"When I say this, I say it in the nicest way possible. You're an idiot."

Bilbo blinked up at him stupidly, and Thorin shook his head fondly.

"Didn't I tell you to stop apologising? Stop overthinking things for once," he punctuated this with a soft flick in the middle of the boy's forehead, letting out a snort of amusement at the responding pout.

Lips twitching at the edges, Thorin released him and turned toward the outer door at the end of the marble hall, a hand casually grazing the white wall.

"Come on, the others were looking for you," he said over his shoulder, walking resolutely ahead. Bilbo stared after him a moment before shaking his head with a wide smile, jogging to catch up.

And if his cheeks were just the slightest shade of pink, no one needed to know.

/

The following few weeks passed in much the same way, and before Bilbo knew it Thursday had arrived.

His classes had been nothing like what he was used to, even the non-gift related ones. Saruman, he had quickly learned, was not one to be trifled with and often gained amusement from obscure punishments or psychically flinging stationary at students who nodded off in his maths class.

English with Galadriel wasn't too bad, but somehow she always knew which students failed to complete their homework or weren't paying attention. Bilbo had a strong suspicion the beautiful teacher was a telepath, but no one seemed to know for certain.

Physical education with Beorn continued to be a source of embarrassment for the teen, as the man had recently begun nicknaming him 'little bunny', as he claimed Bilbo was as fierce as, well, a bunny.

The teen in question refused to find this as funny as the rest of his class.

He had found he rather enjoyed history, much to his friend's disbelief, and genuinely looked forward to these classes with Balin.

Gandalf's gift use class had quickly become a favourite among the students, despite the man's habit of smacking foolish pupils over the head with his staff. No one knew what his gift was, though Bilbo had heard the third years had a betting pool going.

Most classes, the older man stood at the back of the room, monitoring things with a sharp eye and a pipe in his mouth. Roughly half the class were convinced it was weed, and Bilbo rolled his eyes each time they debated this during lunch.

In the days following what had come to be called 'The Dining Hall Azog Thing' (Kili, as it turned out, was not particularly creative), Bilbo had barely seen Thorin. Arena fights were in full swing, and the tall teen's practice commitments often conflicted with normal dinner or lunch times.

Once or twice he had toyed with the idea of making time to see the elder Durin, but had always chickened out at the last moment. Besides, it was easy to lose himself in the company of the others and he found himself getting to know them all quite well.

Although, it didn't help that each time he glanced at the empty seat beside Dwalin, Bofur would shoot a smirk at him.

_Stupid Bofur and his stupid intuition…_

The sound of a throat clearing broke Bilbo from his musings, glancing to his left to find Gandalf casually leaning on his staff.

"Shall we try again?"

Bilbo nodded, slightly embarrassed he'd been caught day dreaming. With a sigh, the teen began to jog on the spot once more, probably for the tenth time. As his limbs began to ache, and his breathing became somewhat laboured Gandalf nodded to him.

Closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, Bilbo focused on lowering his rapidly pounding heartbeat.

"If you can forcibly lower your heartbeat, I believe you shall gain far more control," Gandalf explained after a minute or two, as Bilbo's pulse began to steady.

"And I won't go invisible by accident anymore, right?"

"For the most part, no. You will not go…invisible…unless you mean to do so," he replied, and Bilbo noticed his hesitation, furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

"Gandalf, is there something-"

"I think that should wrap things up!" the elder man cut in cheerfully, already turning away from the indignant student and striding towards the doors.

"W-what?" Bilbo spluttered, and Gandalf gave him a wave before all but fleeing, hurriedly making his way out the doors and into the dark academy beyond.

"Definitely weed," a familiar voice called out, and Bilbo glanced up as Kili and Fili walked into the room, Kili's words echoing from the marble walls.

"He is a little…eccentric, isn't he?" Bilbo murmured neutrally, sinking to the floor in exhaustion. Wiping sweat from his brow with a grimace, he laid on the cool stone floor with a sigh.

Fili poked him with his shoe, and Bilbo only had the energy to huff.

"Didn't realise your gift used so much energy," he said with a grin, as he continued to poke his friend's ribs.

"I didn't even use my gift," he grumbled, weakly swatting at the blonde's faded sneakers, "I spent an hour jogging on the spot repeatedly."

"How is that meant to help?" Kili asked curiously, flopping cross legged on the ground beside Bilbo's sprawled form.

"He thinks if I can lower my heart rate I won't have a mini panic attack and go invis."

"I guess I got off easy, didn't I?" Fili said smugly from above them, and the other two scowled.

"Smartass. Just because you have weapon manipulation," Bilbo grumbled, and Fili snickered.

The elder twin's gift meant he could expertly wield any melee weapon with the skill of a master. All the blonde needed to do was touch it, and the knowledge and control were already there.

"You should see the way he hovers at my practice sessions in P.E! Every time I miss he just smirks at me, the bastard," Kili growled, as his brother rolled his eyes.

"Which is practically never, you twat. All those years of archery actually came in handy," Fili shot back, and Kili aimed a mock kick at his legs.

"Shooting energy arrows is _so_ not the same as shooting normal ones!"

"Pfft, what's so difficult? Draw, aim, shoot."

"Well clearly I'm so skilled I make it look easy."

"It looks easy because it _is _easy," Fili taunted, and Kili threw himself at his brother with a snarl.

Laughing, Fili dodged and ran towards the door, Kili in hot pursuit. Not wanting to be left behind, Bilbo scrambled to his feet with a groan and jogged after the loud laughter and expletives.

"Oi! Slow down, you two!" he yelled, lungs burning once again. Spinning neatly, Fili side stepped his brother before catching him in a headlock, the resulting shouts and taunts bouncing loudly throughout the room.

Bilbo came to a stop in front of them, hands resting on his knees as he gasped for breath.

_Maybe I should have spent less time reading and more time…nah, reading wins, _he thought wryly, the flare of pain in his side a clear reminder of how unfit he was.

"Admit I'm Batman and I'll let you go," Fili grunted out, pinning his twin's flailing body with great difficulty.

"Never!"

"Admit it!"

"Calm down, Robin!" Kili shot back, face turning pink with exertion.

"Don't even-"

The scuff of fast footfalls echoed around the room from the hallway beyond, and all three paused, Fili dropping his brother unceremoniously to the ground.

Kili yelped in indignation but the others ignored him as whoever it was grew closer. By now the three could hear the sound of laboured breath, a steady huff beneath the constant squeak of sneakers on marble.

A hand slapped over the doorframe and Bilbo tensed, half contemplating using his gift. He knew he had no reason to be nervous, yet something just…

_Something doesn't feel right…_

Ori pushed through the doorframe, face red with exertion as he leant against the cold marble wall. Leaning his head back, the teen sighed in relief at the chilled stone.

"I've…been looking…everywhere…for…you guys," he gasped out, the sheen of sweat glistening on his brow leaving his unkempt hair damp with it.

Bilbo hovered in front of him in concern, wanting to help but knowing the boy needed some space to breathe. The twins stayed slightly behind them, glancing at each other in that way they had that meant some silent conversation was taking place.

"Are you alright, Ori?" Bilbo asked after a moment, and the other boy leaned forward, hands braced on his knees.

"You…you three need to get to the headmaster's office, like straightaway," he huffed, already walking towards the door again. Bilbo's eyes widened in surprise, the two Durins behind him having similar reactions.

"Why?" Fili asked, and Ori impatiently waved them over as he stepped into the hall outside. After a beat, the twins and Bilbo followed, the tension thick and cloying in the air.

"I don't know- Thorin should already be there, but Elrond said it was urgent."

"Elrond came and got you?" Kili asked incredulously. The headmaster was known to rarely leave his quarters and office, the only exception being school matches, and despite everything Bilbo felt his curiosity piqued.

"What? No of course not, I was already there when he got this message-"

"What were you doing in Elrond's office?" Fili piped up, and Ori huffed irritably.

"It doesn't matter- something about one of my drawings- but he got this message and his face just went white. I don't know what is happening, but I'm worried," he finished, teeth worrying his lower lip as the small group ascended the staircase outside the headmaster's office.

Staring at those gold trimmed doors once more, Bilbo felt a wave of nausea crash over him, dread settling like a lead weight in his belly. The tug to use his gift was tempting, but he forcibly ignored it.

Casting a glance at the twins behind him, Bilbo recognised the same feelings playing across their faces. With a breath, Bilbo nodded once to Ori in thanks before pushing open the doors.

Unlike last time Bilbo was here, the office was dimmed and cold, the faces of the occupants stressed and pinched. No fire crackled away in the corner, dull glowing embers leaving little of the warmth and light of the previous week.

Around the large mahogany desk sat Elrond and Gandalf, Thorin standing to the side with both arms crossed over his chest. His dark brows were drawn together in a stormy expression, and his back was rigidly straight. Seeing the others, his face cleared only slightly as he nodded to them.

Without a word, the three teens cautiously stepped into the room, pulling up a chair at Gandalf's nod to do so. Instinctively, Fili and Kili sat almost shoulder to shoulder and Thorin drifted over to stand behind them, wariness rolling off him in waves.

Bilbo flinched at the loud scrape of wood on marble as he pulled up a chair, roughly a metre to the right of the others. Kili rolled his eyes and tugged it closer until he was forced to sit right beside the other boy. A small smile sprang unbidden over Bilbo's lips at the gesture, one that was returned briefly.

All too soon the tension of earlier returned, settling over the group in a blanket of unease.

Thorin squeezed a hand on the back of Fili and Bilbo's chairs, a reassuring presence behind Kili's seat. Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh, the weariness of the sound almost bone deep.

Beside him, Gandalf looked as morose as Bilbo had ever seen him, the usual present twinkle in his eye all but gone.

_He looks old,_ Bilbo realised after a moment, as if the spark that lit up the older man had flickered too low. He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat, almost flinching from the sandpaper quality of it.

"I am glad the four of you are here. It…is not good news I am afraid," Elrond started, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Just spit it out already," Thorin all but growled, knuckles white against the dark wood of Bilbo's chair. Elrond hesitated, sharing a heavy look with Gandalf before looking each of them in the eye.

"The bodies of Belladonna Baggins and Vili Durin were recovered this morning."

**A/N:** Hey guys sorry for the late update! As always let me know what you thought and thanks for all the support :)


	7. The Crash and Burn

It was a funny thing, Bilbo thought, watching one's world crash and burn.

For instance, one might assume that there would be feeling. Shock or perhaps anguish. That one would feel horror, sadness, grief or anger. That there would be _some_ form of reaction, some _spark_ that bursts to life or is smothered beneath the pain.

Not nothing, surely.

Bilbo sat frozen in the silence after Elrond's words. His heart beat was a deafening thrum in his ears, the only sound in an otherwise silent world.

_I should probably say something, isn't that what people do?_

His heart thrummed painfully, and he felt himself frown in annoyance. His chest burned and itched- why was his chest burning?

Dimly, a vague thought flitted through his mind, a gentle whisper urging him to breathe.

_Oh, how on earth could I forget that?_

And with that first stuttering gasp the world was flooded with shades of grey, swirling and distorting into faces and shapes. Muffled sounds reached his ears, barely a hum over the incessant pounding of his blood.

Elrond's brightly lit features stared intently at Bilbo, eyes filled with sorrow and lips pulled down in a frown. The man looked genuinely upset.

_My mother is dead. _

Sluggishly, Bilbo looked down at his hands trembling in his lap.

_They found her body._

Abruptly, the teen lurched to his feet, chair clattering and tipping precariously on two legs.

_She isn't coming back._

Spinning on his feet and ignoring the softened voices of the others, Bilbo ran.

Blindly he shoved open the doors, flying down the twisting marble staircase and into the lobby. The plants and busts that lined the walls passed him in a blur of grey, the sound of his sneakers slapping the stone floor a muted thump. His chest burned and his eyes stung, but still he kept running.

Three years. Three years of waiting, of stubbornly ignoring everyone. Of staring after a mop of auburn curls in a crowd, heart in his throat.

Three years of _waiting._

_Waiting for what? For this?_

Uncertain of where he was (yet quite certain he didn't care), Bilbo stumbled upon a small courtyard hidden in an alcove. The garden swayed and shifted, wisps of grey leaves and flowers ebbing and flowing like liquid around a small stone bench. Shaking, Bilbo collapsed to his knees beside it, the small seat reaching his breastbone.

Slumping forwards, the teen barely noticed the chill of the cold stone as he shook. The grass below him left the knees of his trousers damp, thin almost translucent blades coated in dew.

His insides writhed in pain, and he wrapped his arms around himself, resting his forehead against the stone. A sudden wave of nausea crashed over him, and the boy gagged at the acid biting at the back of his throat, barely smothering the urge to vomit. Trembling and shaking, he tucked his legs beneath him, body hunched over in a ball.

Bilbo did not cry.

He gasped out, wretched sounds he could not remember having made before, yet his face remained dry. He couldn't even cry at the death of his own mother.

_Maybe Dad was right, there must be something wrong with me,_ he thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Bilbo could not say how long he spent in that garden, back aching and throat burning. Minutes, hours…time seemed filtered, an irrelevant hum in the back of his head.

It didn't matter.

The ground seemed to tilt, just a little at first and then a lot. It took Bilbo a moment to realise he was swaying, a bone deep fatigue sinking into him.

And as the world flooded with colour, the sudden sounds of the academy a cacophony of noise, the teen slumped sideways, sprawling across the grass.

_Mum always hated silence,_ he thought wistfully, just as everything went black.

/

"_Ma, where are you going?" he asked groggily, auburn curls jutting up in disarray. Rubbing a hand over his face, it took Bilbo a second for his vision to clear, blurred with sleep as it was._

_Belladonna stood, one hand clutching a long trench coat and the other on the handle of the front door, a small suitcase at her feet and umbrella tucked under her arm. Her usually messy curls were pulled back into a rushed ponytail, strands of auburn caressing the sides of her face. In the dark of the hallway he saw her eyes widen, red rimmed._

_She looked like she had been crying._

_Biting her lip and looking as nervous as he had ever seen her, Belladonna lowered her hand from the door, coat and umbrella landing at her feet. Bilbo stepped forward, confusion chasing away the fogginess of his head._

_His mother sucked in a ragged breath, rushing forward to meet him in an embrace as she threw both small arms around him. His head didn't fit as easily beneath her chin as he remembered, the latest of his growth spurts to be blamed, and he pulled a face as she kissed the crown of his head as she often did when he was small. He was 12 now after all, far too old for coddling in his opinion._

"_Are you going to work again?" he asked after a moment, pulling back to see her face. She sniffed, emerald eyes glassy as she nodded, smile wavering slightly at the edges._

"_Yes, Mr. Trahald is waiting in a car out the front," she said brightly, her voice trembling only slightly. A hard knot of anxiety twisted Bilbo's insides, and he fought the urge to reach for her once more. _

_Belladonna often worked away from home, her job with the government sending her abroad for days at a time. She had never left in the dead of night before (three am if the small clock on the wall beside him was to be believed), and Bilbo felt something was definitely amiss._

"_Are you…are you coming back?" he asked, voice small and almost drowned out by the steady pattering of rain on the roof. The wind outside seemed to pick up, an almost mournful sound as it howled through the rafters of the old wooden house, and Bilbo shivered in his thin pyjamas._

_Belladonna's smile wobbled, and she swallowed thickly._

"_I…I really don't know, honey…"_

"_Then why are you going? Why don't you stay here, with us?" he demanded, and this time he did cling to her, fingers clutching the fabric of her blouse hem tightly. She ran a hand through his hair, pressing a light kiss to his temple._

"_Sometimes things aren't that easy. Sometimes, something or someone comes along that's worth everything- and if we don't fight for it, then who will?" she said softly, tilting his face up to look at her. Bilbo's vision swam, his mother's features blurring as the first tear slid down his face._

"_I don't know if I'll come back- but I know that if I don't go, there may be nothing to come back to. And that, my dear Bilbo, is worse than anything I can imagine."_

_Shaking once more, the boy buried his face into her blouse with a sob as she gently rocked him, stroking his hair and whispering reassurances._

_Bilbo…_

_Bilbo…_

"Bilbo!"

Bilbo sat bolt upright with a start, eyes wide and heart hammering in his chest. He groaned, hands clutching his head as the bright white light of the sickbay burned his eyes, spikes of pain shooting through his skull.

"Are you alright, lad? You seemed to be havin' a nightmare," a deep voice questioned, and Bilbo glanced to his left with a start.

Oin stood beside his bed, bushy eyebrows furrowed in what the teen could only guess was concern. Blinking rapidly, his eyes still stinging from the lights, Bilbo nodded. Hesitantly, he brought his hand to his cheek and flinched at the wetness there.

_Ah._

"I- I'm quite alright, thankyou. Uh, what happened?" he asked, wincing at the croakiness of his voice.

"A student found you passed out in one of the gardens; he carried you here himself. Looks like you overused your gift," Oin added, and Bilbi frowned in puzzlement.

"I-what?"

"Your gift is like a muscle- the more you use it, the stronger it gets, right?" The healer started, continuing at Bilbo's nod, "Thing is, just like a muscle you can overexert it too. You used your gift longer than you're used to and now you need to recharge."

As the man spoke he ran a glowing green hand over Bilbo's forehead, and the boy sighed in relief as the pain in his head lessened. Nodding to himself, Oin pulled away and grabbed a notepad at the edge of the bed, his pen making a quiet scratching sound in the almost silent room.

"How long was I out?"

"Hm?"

"How long?" he repeated, raising his voice a little more and flinching at the burning of his throat as a result.

"Ah, try not to be too loud there, laddie, rest your voice a bit. Two days," Oin responded, not looking up from his notepad. Bilbo's eyes widened in shock, and he slumped back into the crisp white pillows, the stiff sickbay sheets rustling as he flopped down.

"T-two days?!" he muttered incredulously, and Oin glanced up at him questioningly.

"Gotta stop mumblin' lad, I can barely hear ya," he berated, but Bilbo barely paid him any attention.

Two days had passed since he had heard the news about his mother…would there need to be a funeral? Did his father know? A wave of nausea came over him, and he breathed deeply in an effort to calm down.

Oh god, what about Fili and Kili?! He just left them! The father they never knew had just been found dead and Bilbo had selfishly fled, after all the three had done for him. God only knew how Thorin was taking it, and here he was worrying them further.

The heart monitor was beeping wildly by now, and Oin looked up with a start, notepad laying forgotten at the foot of the bed. Before he had the chance to say anything, another voice cut in from the doorway, this one achingly familiar to the teen.

"Bilbo, you need to calm down. Everything is all right," Bungo Baggins said calmly, and Bilbo's head swivelled to face him in shock.

"Father?!" he exclaimed, and the monitor seemed to beep louder if possible. His insides twisted and tugged before the sensation of falling crashed over him, the world awash in a sea of grey.

_Not good, not good, not good-_

The flowing figure of his father stumbled back a step, and Bilbo pressed his palms to his eyes in distress. He knew Bungo was disappointed that his son was a Gifted- disappointed being a gentle word for it- and Bilbo couldn't bear to see the look of disgust being shot at him.

Not again.

The shrill beeping of the monitor was a steady booping sound, muffled as it was, and Bilbo was glad for the quiet. Taking a deep breath, he focused on steadying his heartbeat and ignoring the pounding in his temples, his headache returning in full force upon using his gift.

The monitor gradually booped less and less before Bilbo flickered into existence once more, hands clasped over his lap and pointedly not lifting his head. Oin pressed a green hand to his face, and the pounding in his temples softened to a dull ache. Gently, the healer disconnected him from the monitor, the shrill flat line cutting off with the flick of a switch.

"Remember what I said earlier Bilbo; try not to use your gift. If you're feeling ok then you're free to go, but no stress and no classes, got it?" he finished, bushy eyebrows lowering in warning. Mutely, Bilbo nodded and Oin stepped back, nodding warily to Bungo on his way out of the room.

At the door, the man paused, turning back toward the teen.

"Oh, before I forget, you should probably thank that stuck up blonde kid…uh…" his face scrunched in an effort to recall, snapping his fingers impatiently.

"…Thranduil?" Bilbo ventured, and the healer nodded quickly.

"That's the one- Thranduil. He found you and brought you here, should probably thank him."

Ignoring Bilbo's shocked expression, and Bungo altogether, Oin slipped from the room.

As the wooden door swung shut, the room was plunged into silence once more. The air was thick with tension, and Bilbo tugged at the edge of the blanket beneath him nervously, staring at the loose white threads fixedly.

"Who is Thranduil?" The elder Baggins asked, his tone flat, and Bilbo shook his head with a sigh.

"No one, father. Just an upperclassman."

The man grunted slightly in reply, staring at the wooden door for a moment. He seemed older than Bilbo remembered, as if the past year had aged him a great deal, streaks of silver and grey peppered throughout his short hair.

Idly, he wondered what his mother would think of the two of them now.

"He is…uh, he is like you then?" Bungo asked gruffly from his place beside the door, referring in his way to Oin's gift and Bilbo nodded once more. The silence stretched on again, and Bilbo bit his lip nervously. One minute became two, until eventually he felt like he could barely take anymore.

"Are you here about…about…"

"Yes. Funeral arrangements are already under way," he assured him, voice calm and collected as always. Bilbo shook his head in disbelief, a bitter smile twisting his lips.

"Of course they are," he said wryly, and the other man frowned at him, stepping forward closer to the bed.

"What was that?"

Bilbo just shook his head, sliding off the hospital bed and padding barefoot across the room, determinedly not meeting his father's eyes.

"Nothing," he murmured, stepping into the bathroom to get changed.

As soon as the door swung closed behind him, Bilbo leaned back against the wood with a heavy sigh, head tilted up at the high marble ceiling. He felt tired and thin, like a piece of elastic that had been stretched too far for too long.

_Here's hoping I don't snap,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head and gathering his clothes.

**A/N: **Hey guys thanks for all the reviews and faves :D you guys are awesome, let me know how you felt about this one :)


	8. The Language of Flowers

**A/N: **Sooooooooo sorry for the late update guys! New beta reader now though so she'll keep me in line haha but on the plus side extra long chapter today. Thanks for all the support you guys are the best :)

(you should also make my day and send me a review since its my birthday ahah)

/

The walk back to the Beta dorm from the sickbay was a long one, but Bilbo couldn't bring himself to be anything but glad.

The cool night air was crisp, and he found himself inhaling it almost greedily, the chill of the breeze on his face refreshing. By now, the moon was well on its way into the sky, casting the surrounding corridor in an almost ethereal light. The gardens on either side of the open hall swayed, leaves whispering gently against his outstretched fingertips as he walked past.

His sneakers made small scuffing sounds as he walked, the worn rubber soles squeaking softly on the smooth marble, and unbidden Bilbo's mind began to wander.

He wondered about Ori- and why he was in the headmaster's office about his drawing. He had a feeling it was nothing good, and a sense of foreboding washed over him. Shaking his head resolutely, Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest with a shiver.

_The future._

Dwalin's earlier words drawled through his mind, and he shook his head again with a sigh. There was nothing he could do about it, after all, and he had plenty of other things to worry about.

The sound of rapid footfalls echoed down the corridor, the slap of shoes against the marble growing louder. Bilbo paused, staring up at the entrance of the hall where someone jogged through, almost barrelling clean into him.

"Thorin!" he exclaimed as the teen slid to a stop, breath coming in short huffs and body tensed. He looked up at Bilbo and froze, body rigid and cobalt eyes boring into confused emerald.

A moment passed, followed by another and before long the air became tense and heavy. A muscle ticked in Thorin's jaw as he continued staring, mouth pulled down into a firm scowl.

"Thorin…?" Bilbo asked uncertainly, and the brunette took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as if in preparation. The younger teen felt his insides twist with nervous energy and he shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes to the white and grey marble beneath their feet.

"_I'msosorryBilbo_," Thorin suddenly blurted out, and Bilbo's head shot up to stare at him in shock.

A deep furrow was entrenched between his brows, and his shoulders dropped hopelessly. Bilbo blinked at him in confusion for a moment, utterly thrown by the apology, and Thorin seemed to wilt.

"I just- we shouldn't have let you run off like that. I should have known better, I should have…dammit I don't know…" he mumbled, running a hand through his long hair in irritation, and Bilbo couldn't help but stare.

"I'm…Im no good at…with words or anything, but I just wanted you to know. After everything with…well you know, I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I- _we_ weren't there for you and I'm sorry you lost your mum…" he spluttered, growling in frustration each time he couldn't find the right words.

His voice rang with such sincerity and self-deprecation, Bilbo felt his breath catch in his chest. The dark blue eyes seemed to stare straight through him, swirling thickly with some emotion he couldn't name.

"I…" he mumbled uselessly, voice barley a whisper as he stared at the other boy. A cold breeze swept over them, the garden erupting into soft rustles and sighs as Bilbo felt himself shiver. Thorin took a step closer, face more open than Bilbo could remember having ever seen before, and rested a hand on the other's arm tentatively.

And suddenly it was too much.

"I-I'm fine, really!" Bilbo suddenly exclaimed, lips pulled into a bright smile. Shrugging off the other teen's hand carelessly, he retreated a few paces, missing the flash of confusion and hurt that flitted across Thorin's face.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'll be fine," he continued chirpily, backing away and stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

"Bilbo-" Thorin started, brows furrowed in bewilderment before he was cut off.

"Really, don't worry about it. I'll see you some time tomorrow!" Bilbo called back to him, spinning on his heel and jogging away down the hall, ignoring the sharp prickling weight at the back of his neck of the other's heavy stare.

Behind him, Thorin stood as silent and unmoving as the marble pillars around him. He felt rather than heard Bilbo continue jogging, each soft footfall on the stone ground a ripple at the back of his senses.

As the shock finally faded, the brunette let out a ragged breath, jaw clenched and body rigid. Around him the garden rustled and swayed in the wind, the occasional leaf swept up in the movement and skittering across the marble, dancing along his peripheral vision.

At the back of his mind Thorin felt the other boy's pace increase to a full blown run, the impact against the marble coming fast and hard. Almost without meaning to, the teen took a half step forward, instincts aching for him to follow. His heart and mind warred for a moment, a split second of indecision before common sense won out, freezing him mid step.

For a long time Thorin stood, body rigid and tense as the night steadily grew colder and the wind stronger, the brunette as silent and unaffected as the smooth rock below him.

On the opposite side of the academy, Bilbo slowed to a stop, breath coming in short bursts. His stomach twisted and roiled, guilt and shame leaving his insides writhing. Acid bit at the back of his throat, and the teen had to brace his hands against his knees for a moment to avoid being ill.

Flinching at the burn of a stitch flaring to life in his side, Bilbo straightened, taking in his surroundings. Without being aware of it, his feet had carried him through the small alcove and into the same garden he had stumbled to the previous night.

Bright blooms of orange and red grew through the trees and plants, with several smaller white and blue flowers scattered through the soft grass, the colours surprising the teen for a moment. His memories of the quiet plot, few as they were, were distorted by the sea of grey that was his gift, and the small flowers surrounding the low stone bench were a welcome addition.

A cluster of pink carnations grew almost out of sight, hidden behind the base of the seat, and Bilbo couldn't help but smile softly.

_A mother's love, how fitting…_

Slowly, he walked across to the small seat with a sigh, hand running through his mussed up curls tiredly. Dropping down onto the bench with a groan, Bilbo hung his head in his hands, closing his eyes. He just needed a second, needed to _breathe-_

"Can I help you?"

Bilbo jerked his head up in shock, almost falling clean off the cool stone beneath him. Thranduil raised an elegant eyebrow at the teen's silence, long, slender arms crossing over his chest.

"I do not like to repeat myself," he said curtly, and Bilbo scrambled for a second to respond.

"Oh! I'm so sorry- I didn't realize you were there," he said quickly, wincing as he stumbled over his own words and the other boy rolled his eyes.

"Obviously," Thranduil replied drily, casually inspecting his nails. Bilbo rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, feeling unbearably awkward as the other stared down his nose at him.

Oin's advice from earlier crept through his mind, and belatedly Bilbo realised he should probably thank the blonde, rather than stare nervously at him.

"Right, yes well, I…uh I wanted to thank you. For the other night," he hastily added, as the other teen fixed him with a bored look.

"You're welcome," Thranduil said after a pause, gently caressing the green stalk of a plant growing by his side. Bilbo stared in wonder as it shifted, almost as if it _enjoyed_ the attention, pushing its green leaves against pale fingertips.

"Uh…yes…well, I'd best be on my way then, I suppose…" he trailed off, pushing off the stone bench to his feet. The blonde ignored him, once more preoccupied with the vines and tall plants twisting throughout the edges of the garden.

A sliver of pink caught his eye, and Bilbo paused, staring down at the pink carnations at his feet. He knelt beside the flowers, gently brushing the back of his hand against a soft petal, the small bloom almost seeming to press closer to his skin.

"Carnations," Thranduil said flippantly, and Bilbo nodded, smiling down at the flowers.

"They were a favourite of my mother's. She used to fill the house with them," he added, warmth creeping into his tone, "She was always in the garden."

Thranduil just watched him wordlessly, sharp pale blue eyes measuring. Slowly, Bilbo turned away from the plants, rising to his feet to dust non-existent dirt from his pants with a nervous air, suddenly realising he had been rambling to someone he barely knew.

"I'm afraid my family aren't ones for gardening," Thranduil said suddenly, staring resolutely at the vine now, and Bilbo glanced at him in surprise. He had expected the other boy to ignore him, and so scrambled to reply.

"That's a shame, especially considering your gift," he said clumsily, realising too late that may have been the wrong thing to say as the blonde stiffened.

A semi uncomfortable pause ensued, but before Bilbo could find an excuse to leave, Thranduil turned to him.

"Tell me, how did you find this place?"

Bilbo blinked stupidly for a moment, the question seemingly out of nowhere, as he tilted his head back in thought.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I suppose I just…happened upon it, really."

"Happened upon it…huh," the older boy said to himself, lips twitching at the edges in humour, before shaking his head slightly.

"You don't get too many visitors, I take it?" Bilbo asked after a moment, and the other shrugged.

"You could say that," he drawled, voice bored once more as he turned back to the twisting vines curling up beside him, the plants seeming to clamour for attention.

The smaller teen glanced back to the carnations, biting his lip in thought, before turning back to the blonde.

"Do you mind if I come back? It's just so…calm, I guess. I kinda need calm at the moment," he murmured, fingers tugging at the hem of his jumper. Thranduil stared at him a moment, before shrugging, turning back to the garden.

"Whatever, just don't bring any Durin's," he intoned, saying the name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and Bilbo wisely chose not to comment on it.

With a nod, Bilbo made his way to the exit of the plot, resting a hand against the smooth marble archway.

"Thanks again, Thranduil. Really," he added, calling back over his shoulder to the blonde as he slipped through the archway and into the chilled corridor beyond.

Thranduil glanced up, face thoughtful for a moment as his eyes slid to the pink flowers beside the bench.

His mind whirring, Bilbo slowly made his way down the hallways, the encounters of the night leaving his head spinning. Thoughts of Thorin, Thranduil and his father flitted through his mind, and the teen shook his head in an effort to clear it.

"Deal with it tomorrow," he mumbled to himself, almost like a mantra, as he scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

And so, by the time Bilbo reached his bed, the soft snores of his classmates the only sound in the darkened dorm, he had just enough energy to toe off his sneakers clumsily and fall face first onto the covers.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

/

A shrill beeping blared loudly through the room, and Bilbo shot up with a garbled cry.

"Ack! Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Ori said apologetically, clumsy fingers muting the alarm on his phone with several soft beeps.

Blearily, Bilbo waved a hand at him, stifling a yawn.

"S'ok," he mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. His back was a chorus of aches, muscles protesting as he stretched with a wince.

_Nope, never sleeping like that ever again,_ he decided with a grimace, rolling his shoulder joint experimentally.

"How are you feeling, Bilbo? I'm sorry for your loss," Ori murmured softly, eyes downcast, and Bilbo took a second to steel himself. Turning to the other teen, he smiled widely with a shrug.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. What time is it? Oh, I hope I haven't missed breakfast! So hungry I think I could go for seconds," he said brightly, rifling through his clothes quickly as Ori gaped at him.

"Are you…Are you feeling alright?" he asked after a beat, and Bilbo glanced at him curiously, buttoning up his white uniform shirt.

"…You know I was joking about second breakfast right?"

"Bilbo that's not what I-"

"Bilbo! You're awake!" Bofur exclaimed cheerily, cutting off Ori in his enthusiasm. As if realising the circumstances, he paused, face turning sober.

"Good morning Bofur- just on my way to breakfast. Most important meal of the day, right?" Bilbo said brightly, all but marching past the two and heading out of the dorm. Ori and Bofur shared a look of concern before jogging to catch up, Bilbo already ascending the marble stairs.

Smiling to himself, Bilbo passed several clusters of students in the halls, the white marble expanse alive with the sound of hushed conversations and whispers. As he sidestepped a group of female students, each giggling in an alarmingly high pitch, he cast a quick cursory glance down at himself. Once assured that no, they probably were not laughing at him, he tried catching a few snippets of conversation as he continued down the hall.

"-you met _him _yet?"

"Oh my god, are you serious?! Just wait until third period-"

"-and then he said I had beautiful eyes!"

Bilbo winced as the latest cluster of girls squealed loudly, and he hurriedly bustled past them. At his side, Ori rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, you'd think they'd be over it by now. He's been here a whole two days," he grumbled, and Bilbo glanced at him questioningly.

"Oh! You wouldn't know about-"

"Good morning, Bilbo! Good to see you're out and about again," Gandalf interjected in his usual cheerful manner, hand clapping the boy on the shoulder. The teen jumped slightly in surprise, twisting around to face the teacher.

Looking up at the elder man, Bilbo's face fell for a second, a crack in the bright façade as he was pulled back into the memory of their last conversation.

_The bodies of-_

Snapping his smile back into place, Bilbo turned to the teacher, subtly shrugging off the hand clasped over his shoulder. Gandalf seemed to look down at him shrewdly, his eyes shadowed slightly in concern.

"Oh, sorry Gandalf I didn't see you there! Feeling much better," he confirmed cheerfully, continuing on to the dining hall.

"Ah, Bilbo, my boy, might I borrow a moment of your time?" Gandalf called back, and Bilbo paused, glancing forlornly in the direction of breakfast and back again.

"We'll save some for ya," Bofur assured him, clapping him jovially on the back as he and Ori quickly bustled among the other students throughout the hall.

"Well, I _was _on my way to-"

"Splendid!" Gandalf exclaimed, gently steering Bilbo down the opposite direction.

_How does he do that?_ The teen thought to himself with a huff (because it was absolutely _not _a pout) as the older man guided him past groups of students and down another hall.

Rounding the corner, the pair came upon another set of tall mahogany doors, gilded with gold trimming along the edges. Smaller than the ones that lead to the headmaster's office, Bilbo thought they looked too similar to not be something related, perhaps a teacher's lounge or something.

"Now, due to that nasty over exertion of your gift, Oin has recommended to me we cease our lessons," Gandalf began, pausing outside the doors.

"He said I shouldn't use my gift," Bilbo agreed, suspicion rising as the twinkle in Gandalf's eye made a comeback.

"And you would be wise to listen. However, in order to have balance, one needs…?" he trailed off, and Bilbo sighed long sufferingly.

"A sound mind and a sound body," he recited in monotone, having heard the phrase numerous times during class.

"Precisely, which is why you will begin physical training with our new sparring instructor," Gandalf continued, rapping his knuckles on the thick wood. The thud against the mahogany echoed around the empty hall for a moment, before the doors swung open from the inside.

A man stood in the doorway, tall enough that Bilbo barely reached his shoulder. Looking to be in his early twenties, his hair was tied back into a low ponytail that barely brushed his shoulder blades, much shorter than most Gifted seemed to prefer. Clad in a tight fitting black cotton shirt, one could see that though he was slim, hard planes of muscle shifted beneath the fabric. His eyes were a bright blue, seeming to light up as the man smiled winningly down at him.

"Ah, who have we here?" he said sunnily, voice a shade lighter than the baritone Bilbo expected.

Gandalf gave him a tiny push forward, and Bilbo faltered before awkwardly stepping closer.

"Uh, erm, Bilbo Baggins," he murmured, and the man broke out into a grin, teeth a bright white.

"Well young Mr Baggins," the blonde placed his hand on Bilbo's head and ruffled his auburn curls with a hooked grin. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together."

Gandalf looked on in amusement as Bilbo chuckled weakly, entirely unsure what he had gotten himself into.

"Bilbo, meet Frerin, your new sparring instructor."

**A/N: hey guys! Let me know what you thought of this one- things will be a bit more exciting now Frerin has been added to the mix! Thanks so much for all the support xx**

…**did I mention its my birthday? :D**


	9. The Burdens We Share

**A/N: Hey guys! Sooo thought I'd quickly clarify; the order of age is Thorin (16), Frerin (29) and Dis (33). I know, I know, canon is the other way around but my only excuse is AU.  
And yup, Thorin was the 'surprise' child ;)  
As always, huge shoutout to my amazing readers and reviewers- you guys are the best!  
Massive thanks to my demanding/awesome beta reader Annie xx**

"Where exactly are we going?" Bilbo asked curiously, and Frerin waved a hand at the teen flippantly.

"You'll see!" the blonde trilled, marching determinedly forward and through the front gates of the academy. Glancing back over his shoulder, Bilbo could see the tall imposing archway looming behind them, metal letters glinting in the soft morning sun.

Out here the air seemed fresher somehow, more brisk, as dew glistened off the blades of grass below their feet. Bilbo frowned at the dampness around his ankles, the chill against his skin souring his mood further.

"I still haven't had breakfast, by the way," he grumbled, as his stomach gave a twinge in protest. Tugging his jacket closer, Bilbo glanced around curiously as the pair stepped past the tree line of the forest, pine needles and dead leaves crunching underfoot.

"Sparring on a full stomach is never a good idea, pupil of mine," Frerin called back to him, gracefully stepping over a small branch. The forest floor was mottled in shadow, small shafts of sunlight breaking through the canopy above them and highlighting tiny particles of dust.

Clumsily scrambling over the same branch, Bilbo shrugged further into his jacket against the sudden drop in temperature. The branches of the trees shifted and sighed, a mass of swaying green and yellowing leaves in the light breeze, their movements forcing the shadows into odd shapes.

"Uh, just how far do we have to go?" he called out once more, careful to keep the sliver of fear from entering his voice.

Despite himself, Bilbo couldn't help but be utterly creeped out by the forest around them. The woodland was silent, save for the crackle of dead foliage they walked over and the gentle shifting trees- no birds or small animals seemed to live here.

It seemed…odd.

"Patience is a virtue~" the blonde sung, and Bilbo huffed at the non-answer. A moment later, the two broke through the trees and into a small grass clearing, the expanse flooded by warm sunlight. To the far right of where they stood Bilbo could make out a small wooden cabin, the once red wood dulled by years of neglect if the cobwebs in the grime smeared windows were any indication.

Frerin jogged to the centre of the clearing, turning to his student and bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. The movement reminded Bilbo of the twins, and he resolved to find out how they were the moment he got back.

"Come on! Don't have all day, well unless you want to-"

"Coming!" Bilbo called back, joining the man in the middle of the clearing.

Here, at least, the grass was dry and the sunlight almost a tangible thing, bright and warm as it was. Nothing like the forest, he reflected, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the ground behind him.

"Hit me," Frerin ordered, smiling brightly all the while, and Bilbo stared at him in surprise.

"…Uh, sorry what?"

"Hit me."

Bilbo stared at him some more, utterly nonplussed, and Frerin shook his head with a small tut.

"Bilbo, have you ever sparred before?"

"Not really, we did have a lesson on sparring, but…" Bilbo winced, trailing off.

More or less, Beorn's lesson involved a lot of flailing and a lot of being thrown around, in Bilbo's case. His back twinged at the memory, and Frerin cocked his head to the side curiously.

"Ah well, lucky you have me now! Ok, I want you to attack me," he said sunnily, arms clasped behind his back.

Bilbo faltered, but at Frerin's encouraging expression, the teen hesitantly assumed what he hoped would pass for an attack stance. When the man made no move to retaliate or defend, the teen stepped forward.

Timidly, he stuck out a fist, flailing it weakly in Frerin's direction but not actually making contact. The blonde raised his eyebrows, pointing to himself in question.

"…Are you trying to hit me or shoo me?"

Flushing slightly, Bilbo struck out a fist blindly, flinching as it neared his target's arm. Casually leaning to the left, Frerin evaded the punch easily. Reassured by the evasion, the brunette took another step forward, swinging a little faster this time. Again, Frerin leaned the other direction, neatly sidestepping as the boy floundered.

"Give me all you've got, no holding back kiddo," he commanded, practically beaming at the student and waving him forward.

Bilbo took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders before running at the blonde with a cry. Wildly, he flung his arm out at the man's chest, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

With a smirk, Frerin pivoted on his heel, smoothly dodging Bilbo's strike. Stumbling from the momentum, Bilbo landed in a heap on the ground with a squeak.

Rolling onto his back, the teen's breath came in short bursts, chest burning and heart hammering from the exertion. Sitting up and leaning back on his hands, Bilbo glared at his laughing instructor.

"It wasn't _that _funny…" he mumbled, as Frerin's laughter finally died down to chuckles, the blonde wiping a tear from his eye.

"Oh…oh it really was," he replied, somewhat breathlessly, and Bilbo pouted.

Stepping forward, Frerin held a hand out to the teen on the grass, smiling cheerfully and light blue eyes shining with mirth.

"Would you like to know where you went wrong, young grasshopper?"

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo grasped the hand held out to him, pulling himself up with a grunt. Stumbling only slightly, he brushed the bits of grass from his clothes, frowning at the green stain smeared across the knees of his pants.

"Ok, where did I go wrong?"

"Show me again, and I'll tell you," he directed cheerfully, hand held out in a sweeping gesture for Bilbo to commence.

With a sigh, Bilbo straightened, tensing in alarm when Frerin clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Right there," he said, and Bilbo blinked in confusion.

"I…haven't done anything yet?"

"Exactly! Unlearn everything you know about sparring," Frerin ordered chirpily, smiling at the confused teenager in front of him.

"Ok, I can do that," Bilbo agreed, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Frerin poked at his ribs, ruffling his auburn curls before the teen pushed him away irritably.

"Your stance is all wrong; here," the man murmured, gently adjusting the sloppy stance, "bend your knees and one foot in front of the other- yup that looks good. See, now you're more guarded than before but still able to move quickly. Someone like you doesn't want to blindly run in, you should go for a more agile approach."

Bilbo nodded, feeling more stable than before already.

"Find your weakness and make it a strength," Frerin said, stepping back with a smile.

"That doesn't make much sense- how can a weakness be a strength?" Bilbo asked, head tilted slightly in curiosity. Frerin chuckled, shrugging to his student.

"Oh, just something someone told me ages ago. You'll figure it out," he replied, seeming to trail off. The blonde's face clouded for a moment, eyes darkening and smile fading, and Bilbo thought something about the man seemed distant.

_Haunted, _he realised suddenly.

A beat later and the smile was back, eyes a bright blue once more as his face cleared completely. Bouncing on his heels once more, Bilbo had to wonder if he had imagined the entire thing. Snapping back to the present, the teen cleared his throat.

"So, besides not knowing anything, what are my weaknesses?"

"You're small; way smaller than almost anyone you'll ever fight. You don't have any muscle to speak of and you have the aggression of a field mouse," the blonde surmised, eyes shrewd as he looked over his student.

Bilbo frowned, glancing down at the ground and tugging on the hem of his dirt stained uniform, the sleeve nowhere near as white as earlier. Frerin slung an arm over his shoulders, grinning winningly at the startled teen.

"You have the potential to be the best in the academy, if you want it enough."

Bilbo stared at the blonde, blinking in bewilderment.

"Are we…talking about the same person?" he asked slowly, and he found himself wondering at the mental stability of his new instructor. Laughing brightly, Frerin ruffled the boy's curls again, much to his dismay.

"Yup, we are definitely going to have fun with this, young cricket," he exclaimed, finally releasing the teen.

"Uh, I don't think the saying is cricket-"

"Come along now, should probably get you back before either of us get in trouble," Frerin interjected, hooked grin in place as he all but dragged Bilbo from the clearing, the auburn haired boy just managing to scoop up his jacket on the way.

The sun was steadily climbing into the sky, much closer to its apex than earlier, and Bilbo found himself surprised at how much time they had spent, considering it felt like they had done so little.

"So I was thinking every third afternoon, after you finish all your other boring classes?" Frerin piped up from ahead, and Bilbo scrambled to catch up to the man.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Frerin paused, beaming at the other over his shoulder. Unnerved, Bilbo faulted, almost tripping on a large tree root as the pair entered the cover of the forest. Shrugging on his jacket, the teen smothered a shiver, glancing up at the canopy uneasily.

"Every third afternoon you get to practice with me, o student of mine~" Frerin chirped back, and continued marching forward, undergrowth and dead leaves crunching underfoot.

"Same place?" he asked, tone resigned, and Frerin chuckled.

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper, be a little excited! Sparring is exciting!" he exclaimed, bouncing with energy as Bilbo sighed.

_I'll take that as a yes. Stupid, creepy forest…_

As the two finally came to the end of the forest, Bilbo found the sloping green grass and looming marble archways a welcome sight, and actually exhaled in relief.

Frerin let loose a piercing whistle, waving an arm over his head with a grin. Ears ringing and heart racing in shock, Bilbo started in surprise as he realised two figures were heading towards them at a jog.

Two very familiar figures.

"Bilbo!"

"Oi, Boggins!"

Bilbo flinched at the now familiar nickname, ignoring Frerin's raised brow and teasing grin. The twins came to a stop in front of them, cheeks tinted red from the sudden exertion and long hair awry, blonde and black strands escaping low ponytails.

"What are you two doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course," Bilbo hastily added at Kili's pout, head tilted just slightly to the side.

"We could ask you the same," Fili shot back, gaze darting from the still smiling Frerin to his friend.

"Oh! This is-"

"Uncle! We were looking all over for you," Kili interjected, lips pulled down in a frown and eyes narrowed. With a chuckle, Frerin held up both palms in a placating gesture.

"Oh, you know me. Was off on one of my walks when suddenly I had no idea where I was, lost in my own world I suppose. Luckily, Bilbo here happened to find me and here we are," the blonde explained, barely missing a beat.

Bilbo stared at the teacher in confusion, utterly thrown by the direction the conversation had taken as the man in question ruffled his auburn curls with a chuckle.

As the teen batted away the hand irritably, the twins snorted with laughter.

"As bad as Thorin, this one is," Kili explained to Bilbo, shaking his head.

"Absolutely useless with directions," Fili agreed, and Frerin shrugged in defeat, sighing theatrically.

"'Tis my curse, my burden to bear~" he said poetically, and Fili rolled his eyes, Kili shaking his head again.

Still reeling, Bilbo ran a hand through his unruly curls, attempting to organise his thoughts.

"So…Uncle?" he questioned, looking from one Durin to the other, feeling rather behind.

"Well, yeah," Kili replied, eyeing Bilbo in concern.

"As in brother of our mother and Thorin, yes," Fili clarified, and Bilbo nodded to himself.

"Oh! Speaking of our mother, she's on her way to the academy. That's why we had to find you," Fili shot in, and Frerin groaned in despair.

"Dis? How long until she arrives?" he said lowly, tone resigned, as the four began walking closer to the academy once more.

"Should be here any minute now, I think," Fili continued, and Kili elbowed Bilbo softly.

"I think your dad will be there too, some kind of meeting about…you know…" the brunette trailed off, and Bilbo swallowed thickly.

"The funeral. Yeah."

Ahead of them, Frerin almost appeared to be sulking, lip pouting and shoulders squared. Despite this, the man straightened the long sleeves of his black shirt, double checking the small buttons and pulling his hair back more neatly, ignoring the twin's identical snickers.

"You know, we caught Thorin doing the same thing," Fili whispered to Bilbo, dropping back a few steps to walk in time with the teen. Like clockwork, Kili automatically picked up the pace to walk beside Frerin, poking and teasing the blonde.

"Really? He doesn't seem…well, the type, I suppose."

"Yeah, both he and Frerin are terrified of her. It's pretty funny," he added with a grin, staring up at the academy, the marble walls and archways steadily growing larger as the four continued on.

"I haven't really had the chance to offer my condolences, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry things turned out this way," Bilbo murmured, but Fili shook his head with a huff.

"Don't worry about it. We never knew him anyway, it's not like he was ever more than a stranger to us. Bastard was gone all our lives after all," Fili muttered, eyes fixed on the marble structure in front of them, hands deep in the pockets of his black uniform pants.

"Mum didn't want either of us to know, but I did some digging of my own. You know, turns out he's only been dead three years. Three. He wasn't gone because he was dead; he was gone because he wanted to be," the blonde growled, fists clenched white at his sides as he closed his eyes for a second, visibly trying to calm down.

Bilbo waited patiently, watching as his friend wilted, hands coming uncurled and hanging uselessly at his sides. The two slowed further, well out of hearing distance of the others. Ahead of them, Kili laughed loudly as Frerin said something out of earshot with a wide grin, ruffling the other's dark mop of hair.

"Kili doesn't know, does he?" Bilbo said after a moment, the words feeling odd on his tongue, and Fili shook his head mutely. His eyes were darker than Frerin's, a curious teal colour that was neither green nor blue and lighter than Thorin's cobalt.

Bilbo wondered fleetingly where the green had come from, deciding immediately it was better not to ask.

Fili's stare rested on the form of his brother, and Bilbo hesitantly squeezed a hand on his shoulder, the teen flashing him a brief smile, weak as it was.

"I…couldn't really bring myself to tell him. He's just always been so…so damn hopeful, I guess. He listened to all the stories mum told us, saying stuff like how Vili was some kind of hero, how he wanted to be like him when he grew up. He said stuff like that it was ok that he wasn't with us, you know, the kind of profound shit kids come out with. I just-" he broke off, biting his lip and swallowing thickly, coming to a complete stop below the entrance to the academy.

"I never really cared about him as a kid, never thought we needed him. We had Mum. We had our Uncles. I just…it just makes me so pissed off that after all those years of Kili worshipping him, and Mum staring at his pictures, this stupid sad smile on her face- the whole time he was alive, doing god knows what," Fili finished, letting out a ragged sigh and running a hand through his hair, movements made jerky by stress.

"You'd rather Kili have the lie," Bilbo surmised gently, and Fili scuffed a sneaker on the marble steps with a dull squeaky noise.

"He's dealing with it though. He's sad, but he's accepting it. Isn't that better?" He turned to Bilbo, teal eyes searching. "Isn't it easier, this way?"

Bilbo said nothing for a long moment, turning from his friend's imploring stare to the twisted metal letters above them, the wrought iron glinting in the sun.

"I think Kili is stronger than you think," he replied, turning to smile at the blonde beside him. "My Mum used to say a burden shared is a burden halved, and we both know Kili wouldn't want you to go through this alone."

Fili stared at the teen with a furrowed brow, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him.

"Oi! Fili! Boggins! What's taking so long?!" Kili all but screamed back to them, Frerin waving from behind him.

"Just think about it," Bilbo finished, patting a hand on his friend's shoulder comfortingly before jogging to catch up to the other two.

Fili stared after him a moment, lost in his own thoughts as the auburn teen raced ahead.

_A burden shared is a burden halved, huh…_

/

Thorin stood to greet the four as they approached the meeting room door, nodding once to the group stiffly before turning to the twins. Bilbo flinched as the brunette barely made eye contact, cobalt eyes briefly flicking over his form before ignoring him completely.

_I guess I deserve that…_ he thought to himself guiltily, as the brunette glanced over Fili and Kili, usual scowl in place.

"Relax bro, already looked 'em over," Frerin piped in, resting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder with a wide grin in place. Thorin stiffened, pausing in his scrutiny of his nephews to throw a dark glare at the blonde.

"Don't call me that."

"Pssh, really? Are we gonna do this again?" Frerin replied calmly, slouching closer to Bilbo with a smile. Thorin's face darkened, jaw clenched as hostility seemed to crackle between the brothers.

A muffled voice came through the wooden doors, tone distinctly feminine, and both Frerin and Thorin paled.

"Sounds like Mum's already here," Fili observed, lips twitching in a smirk.

"Wonder what she'd do if she knew you two had been fighting again?" Kili added slyly, and Frerin straightened, hand sliding away from Bilbo's arm as Thorin scuffed a worn sneaker on the ground, looking anywhere but the door behind him.

Bilbo looked on in amazement as the tension in the room vanished, and Kili sent him a cheeky grin, dark eyes alight with amusement.

"Well, we better not keep her waiting. Same drill as always, guys," Frerin said brightly, still somewhat pale as he gently shoved the twins towards the doors. Thorin rolled his eyes but made no move to intervene, arms crossed and glare fixed on the marble beneath their feet.

"Yeah yeah, we're going," Fili said with an exaggerated eye roll, striding forward together with Kili and swinging the door open. Thorin and Frerin ducked to the side, the latter tugging Bilbo along with him out of sight of those in the room.

"Hey Mum," the twins chimed in unison, swinging the door closed behind them with a soft click.

Beside him, Frerin and Thorin seemed to relax a little, some of the colour returning to their faces, and Bilbo couldn't help the bewildered expression he fixed the pair with.

"It helps if the idiots go in first, they seem to be her weak point," Thorin mumbled, crossing his arms and scowling at his sneakers.

"Weak point? You sound like you're preparing for battle, not a family visit…" Bilbo murmured, gaze flicking from one Durin to the other. Frerin chuckled, bouncing again on the heels of his feet with a grin, as Thorin rolled his eyes.

"Don't get us wrong, we love our sister dearly. Woman practically raised us and all, but she can be a tad…"

"-overbearing? Nagging?" Thorin pitched in, and Frerin shrugged, small smile on his features. Bilbo stared down listlessly at the ground, his mind churning with a deluge of memories.

"_Bilbo, what on earth have you gotten on your shirt? Anyone would think you were trying to feed your hair-"_

"_Bilbo, honey, it's wonderful you've tied your tie, but just let me straighten it for you a little-"_

"_Bilbo, you know not to leave the table until everything is finished-_

"_Bilbo, how many times have I told you-_

"_Bilbo, don't-"_

"_Bilbo-"_

"-Bilbo? Bilbo, are you feeling alright?"

Bilbo started as he snapped back to the present, blue stare boring into him with concern. With a start, the teen realised he must have gone into a daze. Steeling himself, Bilbo stepped back from his worried friend with a smile, attempting to ignore Thorin's narrowed eyes.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm fine. Really," he added, voice bright and chipper.

The other teen stared at him for a moment, eyes searching, as Bilbo did his best to hold his sunny expression. The brunette's gaze hardened, face closing off once more as a scowl twisted his lips, and Bilbo tried to ignore the churning of his insides at the change.

"Whatever," Thorin growled, storming past the auburn haired boy and through the doors, the wood slamming shut behind him with a resounding bang through the corridor.

Bilbo winced, smile falling as he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

Beside him, Frerin patted him on the shoulder encouragingly, small smile across his lips.

"I thought only I could make him scowl like that!" he said cheerily, pride in his voice as he clasped the youth's shoulder, tugging him enthusiastically towards the doors.

"You're sending me in first?" Bilbo asked, somewhat bewildered, and Frerin flashed him a grin.

"To battle, Peon!"

Bilbo sighed heavily, grasping the cool metal handle of the door tightly.

"More like war, General," he muttered, voice laced with sarcasm as he tugged open the doors, Frerin snickering behind him.

_Here we go…_

**A/N: Let me know what you thought xx **


	10. The Wager

**A/N: The Dis chapter!  
I am sooooooooooo sorry for the massive wait you guys!  
I was sick for 3 weeks, so have literally been drowning in uni work as a result -_-  
Thankyou so much for sticking with me this whole time, and a huge thankyou for all the faves and comments, you guys are the best :D  
Theres no way I'll ever abandon this story- I'm having way too much fun haha**

**...and I guess I should probably thank my beta- who is pregnant btw! How exciting is that XD**

"-not been eating again? You're so scrawny!"

Thorin winced as the woman opposite him pinched his cheek, face stuck somewhere between a scowl and grimace. She gave a little tug on the teen's face, eyes narrowed.

_This must be Dis…_Bilbo supposed, flinching as she levelled her brother with a particularly dark glower. Her wavy black hair was pulled back into a loose braid, chocolate eyes glittering dangerously as she glared down at Thorin.

While she looked a lot like Kili, and Bilbo could see traces of Fili in her face, the woman seemed to have a quiet presence about her, a level of tempered ferocity her sons would never possess.

"I thought we'd been over this- training is all well and good but not if you overdo it. Stop skipping meals."

Thorin appeared to be attempting to make himself smaller, shrinking in on himself in a way Bilbo had never seen him do. Feeling a small wave of amusement, the boy cast his eye about the room curiously. Behind the pair, Fili and Kili gave a little wave to them, standing to the side and apparently enjoying the show.

Bilbo shifted to wave back, but as he raised his arm Frerin stilled the movement just as quickly, hand snapping out to grasp the student's wrist.

He glanced up at the instructor in surprise, as the man shrugged back minutely, eyes steadfast on his siblings.

"Best not attract her attention just yet; my dear sister is a little…well, you'll find out soon enough," Frerin whispered, sheepish smile in place. Bilbo raised an eyebrow at the blonde, turning back at the sound of Thorin's weak reply.

"Dis-"

"Do we need a repeat of last time?"

Thorin's face drained of colour, and he shook his head mutely. Behind him, Kili dragged a finger across his throat theatrically as Fili bowed his head in mourning.

Bilbo couldn't help but wonder what _last time_ meant, but promptly decided perhaps it was better not to know, especially considering how tense Frerin had gone beside him.

"N-no, I'll uh, I'll make sure I attend meals…" he trailed off, face still ashen as Dis narrowed her eyes. She stared at him suspiciously for a beat, fingers still clamped around his cheek.

"Good to hear. Well then, with that out of the way," she trailed off, releasing his face. A second later she threw both arms around the teen with a surprising amount of force, all but crushing him to her.

"You look so much older already!" Dis exclaimed, voice abandoning the growling quality and taking on a much shriller tone. Bilbo stared in astonishment at the switch, and Frerin sighed in relief.

"How have all your studies been going? Improving? Have you still got that brooding thing going on?" she asked rapidly, as Thorin attempted to pull back out of her firm hold, face smothered in her coat.

"Mmmph," he managed, and Dis rolled her eyes, letting him pull back to hold him in front of her. The teen gasped in a greedy breath as she shook her head at him.

"Oh Thorin, are you still doing that weird majestic sulking thing? I thought you'd grow out of that by now, how are you ever going to get a girlfriend at this rate?"

"Dis, seriously?" he spluttered, face flushing once more.

"_Or _a boyfriend, I suppose-"

"_Dis!"_

"Well you know we don't care- oh stop being so immature you two!" She growled at the twins, Fili and Kili attempting to stifle their laughter with little success. Bilbo couldn't help his own grin while Frerin's shoulders shook as he attempted to remain as silent as possible.

"I mean, you're probably old enough now for the _talk_-"

"_Frerin's here!"_ Thorin blurted, and the blonde stiffened, freezing all movement like a startled deer.

Slowly, Dis turned to Frerin as Thorin quickly backpedalled, hiding behind the twins as subtly as possible.

"N-now sister, have I ever told you how lovely your hair is looking lately?" he stammered, both palms held out in surrender. Dis glared at him, and Bilbo attempted to step out of sight.

"Don't think I don't know about that shack thing you call a house out in the woods!" she snapped, and Frerin rubbed a hand across the back of his neck sheepishly.

Bilbo's eyes widened as he recalled the dilapidated cabin from earlier, dust clinging to the windows and one side of the wooden veranda rotted through. At the time, he had assumed no one had lived there in decades.

"Well, I _did _say it was a fixer-upper," he began, taking half a step back.

"A _fixer-upper_? Its practically derelict."

"Work in progress. Besides, look on the bright side," Frerin trailed off, and Dis narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Bright side?"

"Meet Bilbo!" he exclaimed, seizing the teen by the shoulder and giving him a little shove towards the brunette. The teen stumbled forward a couple steps with an undignified squawk.

Dis paused, glancing down at the auburn haired boy in surprise. Bilbo twisted the sleeve of his jacket nervously. Glancing around subtly for help, the twins both shot him a wink as Thorin shrugged.

"This is Bilbo Baggins, he's my-" Frerin started, as a throat cleared sharply from the back of the office.

Bilbo jumped, spinning around as a familiar figure rose from an armchair by the fireplace, the soft snap and crackle of the flames the only sound in the now silent room. A sinking sensation tugged at his insides as Bungo crossed his arms, the golden glow of the embers sharpening the contours of his face.

"Bilbo, take a seat," he ordered, voice almost monotone.

"Yes Father," he mumbled obediently, crossing the room and keeping both eyes trained on the marble below his feet. He could feel the confused gazes fixed on his back like a lead weight, certain they belonged to the three youngest Durins.

Unseen, Dis and Frerin shared a look, the former raising a questioning brow. Frerin smiled, shrugging softly.

"I'm sorry; I didn't see you back here," Bilbo murmured, perching on the edge of the leather seat. To his right, his father sunk down into another armchair. A glass of amber liquid was clasped in his left hand, the contents swirling slowly.

_He never drinks…_Bilbo realised, mesmerised as the amber caught the glow of the flames.

"Clearly," Bungo replied drily, as behind them the Durin's continued, their voices filling the room once more.

"How is…how is the shire…?" he asked hesitantly, as his father took a sip of the liquid, a small grimace twisting his lips.

"I wouldn't know. I've been on several business meetings lately."

Bilbo made a small sound of acknowledgement, staring down at his hands clasped in his lap. The sound of the Durin's laughter and teasing drifted over, and Bilbo couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips.

Bungo sighed, and Bilbo's smile slid from his face. Timidly, he glanced up as the man ran a hand through his hair, placing the empty glass on the coffee table.

"I…uh, I hear that your classes are going well," he continued, voice hesitant. Bilbo blinked up at him in surprise, gaping for a moment before scrambling to reply.

"Erm, yes. Yes I suppose. A lot of the classes are pretty similar to what I'm used to, so…" he trailed off awkwardly.

Bungo simply nodded, staring into the fireplace once more.

"Ah, Dis you are looking lovely as always," Gandalf greeted, stepping through the wooden doors almost silently as the others greeted him in turn.

Bilbo twisted around in his seat, catching a pair of dark blue eyes watching him curiously. Thorin quickly glanced away, scuffing a shoe against the ground in obvious feigned casualness. He felt a wave of amusement, before he remembered the older teen was still upset with him.

_I really am going to need to talk to him about everything,_ he thought to himself in resignation.

Sighing, he tuned back into what the others were talking about, his father having gotten to his feet once more and nodding to the grey teacher stoically.

"You're late," Bungo observed, and Gandalf merely smiled.

"A Gifted is never late, Bungo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to," he replied, eyes twinkling again, and Bungo's face took on an expression of tired amusement.

Shooing Bilbo from his seat with a soft smile, the elder man sank into the leather with a bone weary sigh as the teen stood behind his father's seat. The teacher rested his staff beside the chair, and Bilbo cast a worried glance at the gnarled wood so close to the embers.

Reaching across the small coffee table, Bungo poured himself another glass, raising a brow at Gandalf in question as he did so.

"Ah, no thankyou Bungo, I'm afraid it has been far too long," he responded, smiling softly, "and perhaps I am getting too old for such things, unlike yourself."

Bungo glared down into his glass, downing the liquid in a smooth motion.

"I haven't touched a drop since Bilbo was born."

Bilbo glanced down at him curiously as Gandalf made a small sound of surprise.

"Surely not! Why, I still remember that summer festival where we stol-_found _those fireworks," he recalled, and Bungo's lips slipped into a small smile. Casually, he poured himself another glass.

"I remember. Too old to drink but I bet you still smoke that pipe of yours?"

"Would you deny an elderly man his comforts?"

Bungo sighed, shaking his head. Bilbo watched in fascination as the man downed another glass.

A knock sounded from the doors, and Frerin opened them to reveal a staff member carrying two platters of food. What appeared to be her twin (or clone, Bilbo amended, considering where they were) wandered through behind her, placing a platter on the coffee table beside them.

Gandalf reached across for a new bottle, and Bilbo decided to leave them to it, wandering to find Kili and Fili muttering together.

"-no way! I'm _telling _you, that's like number six by now," Kili hissed. Fili shook his head, flicking his brother in the centre of his forehead and dodging Kili's half-hearted swing in retaliation.

"Nope. Definitely closer to seven," the blonde shot back, eyes widening as he noticed Bilbo and hurriedly elbowing his twin in the ribs. Ignoring the brunette's indignant grumbling, Fili smiled brightly at his friend.

"Bilbo! What's up?"

"Uh, what's closer to six or seven?" Bilbo questioned, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as the twins stiffened.

"Hmm? Whatever are you talking about, Boggins?" Kili asked innocently, as Fili adopted a confused expression.

"Are you feeling alright?" the blonde asked, resting a hand across Bilbo's forehead. Shaking off the hand with a huff, the auburn haired teen shook his head with a sigh.

"Maybe you should have a seat? Are you feeling faint?" Kili continued, voice filled with mock concern. Bilbo rolled his eyes, giving up on whatever the two had been talking about.

"Actually, I _still_ haven't eaten so I'm going to-"

"Thanks for earlier, star pupil of mine," Frerin chimed in, throwing an arm around the unsuspecting boy's neck. Bilbo stared longingly at the platters of food around the room as the instructor steered them away, the twins following on either side.

"Thanks for what?" he asked after a moment, and Frerin blinked down at him in confusion.

"Why, for being my decoy of course! After Thorin threw me to the wolves like that- _my own little brother-_ I was utterly unprepared. Your heroics and sacrifice will not be forgotten," the blonde continued solemnly, head bowed.

"Um, ok? What sacrifice?" he asked distractedly, and Kili and Fili shook their heads in sympathy.

"Poor soul doesn't even know what he's in for," Kili whispered pityingly, and Fili tsked.

"Oh, poor sweet naïve young cricket," Frerin murmured, shaking his head sadly, "now we're going to have to actually introduce you to Dis. Which means she'll know who you are," he clarified, as Bilbo's expression didn't seem to change.

"Oh, ok," he said easily, reaching out for the tray of small sandwiches beside them. Frerin shook his head again with a sigh, walking further into the room with a dramatic flourish.

"Just ok? Maybe he _is_ sick…" Kili murmured to Fili, his twin nodding in agreement.

Bilbo's fingers brushed the crust of the closest sandwich before he was tugged away, letting out a small whimper. Mistaking the whimper for one of fear (rather than a cry of starvation), Frerin patted him on the back sympathetically.

Feeling a familiar heated glare, Frerin untangled his arm from his oblivious student, settling for resting a hand on the youth's shoulder. Casting pale blue eyes across the room, Frerin almost snorted with laughter at the look on his little brother's face.

Scowling darkly from his place beside Dis, Thorin grit his teeth at the sly wink the blonde shot him as he casually leaned closer to Bilbo, the latter too busy practically ogling a distant platter of sandwiches to notice.

Despite his rage, Thorin couldn't help the twinge of fondness in his chest at Bilbo's expression.

Frerin's teasing expression turned pensive suddenly, eyes narrowing in thought as he stared fixedly at his brother. Slowly, a wide grin curled over the blonde's lips. Thorin scowled, turning back to his sister (the lesser of two evils, apparently) and resolutely ignoring the Cheshire grin behind him.

_Bilbo Baggins; the gift that keeps giving,_ he thought in amusement, still eyeing his brother's stiff shoulders across the room.

_Someone just found a new hobby~_

Still grinning smugly to himself, Frerin cast his eye among the group. The noise had once more reached a respectable level (which, he could admit, may be a tad too loud for some), as everyone took the time to relax.

His gaze paused on the pair by the fire, the crystal glass filled with amber glinting in the soft light as the man raised it to his lips. Raising his eyebrows, Frerin elbowed his student none too gently.

"Say, Bilbo? Just how much has your old man had to drink now?" he asked curiously, and Fili made to clamp a hand over his brother's mouth.

"Nine now!" Kili exclaimed, dodging his twin.

"_Kili!"_ Fili chastened, "we weren't supposed to mention that…and he's up to ten," the blonde couldn't help but add, flushing somewhat sheepishly under Bilbo's unimpressed stare.

"That's what you were counting."

It wasn't a question, and Fili flinched as Kili glanced down at his shoes guiltily.

"He _has_ been putting it away," Frerin mused, and Bilbo tensed.

"He never drinks," he shot back, barely keeping the defensive note out of his voice. Frerin made a small sound of acknowledgement, pale blue eyes sliding back to the armchairs by the fire.

Bilbo couldn't help the feeling of unease as a slow grin stretched over the man's lips.

"Ok, let's say we liven things up a bit, kiddos!" he said exuberantly, rubbing his hands together. The twins leaned forward in interest.

"I bet he'll spill his drink before Elrond arrives."

Bilbo stiffened as Fili and Kili made identical sounds of protest.

_At least someone has some tact,_ he thought to himself with a huff, as Kili resolutely shook his head.

"No way- they're only little glasses, it'll take way more than that!"

Bilbo narrowly held himself back from face palming, settling to glare irritably at the trio instead. Frerin shook his head, tapping a finger against the side of his nose with a wink.

"I know good stuff when I smell it, and he's having it straight."

Bilbo felt the first stirrings of exasperation churn through his chest as the three continued to sort out their bets.

In the corner of the room, Bungo poured himself another drink, completely unaware of the current conversation. His first drink since Bilbo had been born, apparently, and he couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt and indignation on his father's behalf.

Sure, the man left a lot to be desired as a father, and yes, he was rather cold at times, with a decidedly short fuse where his son was concerned…

_But he's never been a drunk._

"-slurring, if he's already had ten it'll only take-" Fili began.

"I bet my father does neither!"

All three broke off abruptly, glancing at the smaller teen in surprise. Bilbo felt both fists clench at his sides, mouth set in a firm line.

"I bet he's not affected at all!" he added hotly, missing the spark of approval in Frerin's eyes as the auburn haired boy glared at the three.

Fili and Kili shared a look, seeming to converse without words for a moment before smiling and holding out their hands in tandem.

"You're on!"

**A/N: Feel like I should add a sorry for the fillerish chapter- that said, im almost done ch 11 which is shaping up to be pretty decent.  
What do you think of Dis so far? Let me know what you thought :)**


	11. The Shattered Glass

**A/N: Hey guys :) longer chapter this time and some bagginshield!  
Dis and Thorin sibling feels~  
Thanks so much for all the reviews and favourites- you guys are the best xx  
Also much better summary, am I right?**

In retrospect, Bilbo supposed he really should have seen it coming.

Fili and Kili were the first to lose the bet, wagering Bungo would be slurring in another two drinks. Bilbo couldn't help but be thankful his father was so articulate, god only knew what the twins would demand if they won.

The thought made him shudder, even as he spared a slightly pitying glance at the two sulking across the room.

At some point Dis had moved to join the other adults (excluding Frerin, though Bilbo had his doubts the man could be classed as such) by the fire, Gandalf calling her over cheerfully. Bungo had become slightly more subdued at that, the rate at which he drank decreasing as the three became engrossed in conversation about their teenage years, of all things.

Hearing something about a perm, Bilbo blanched and hurriedly turned his attention back to the plate of miniature sandwiches beside him.

"Oi, Broody Mcbroody pants!" Frerin called across to his brother, the latter jumping slightly before scowling at the blonde. "Quit having majestic introspective musings and join us!"

Thorin glared darkly, arms crossing over his chest as he stubbornly stayed where he was on the opposite side of the room. Frerin sighed, planting a hand in Bilbo's curls and bending slightly, face almost cheek to cheek with the spluttering teen beside him.

"Well ok, I guess it's just my favourite student and I then! Probably for the best, really."

Thorin's jaw clenched as Bilbo flushed, the blonde ruffling his curls with a smirk.

"I-I really don't think-" he stammered, his weak protests cut off as Thorin stalked toward them irritably. With a smug sounding chuckle, Frerin released the auburn haired boy, letting his hand fall back to his side.

Bilbo hurriedly retreated a half step, eager to have his own space again. His insides still twitched and twisted with nerves, and he focused on calming down.

It really wouldn't be good to use his gift with his father in the room after all.

"What do you want?" Thorin all but growled, and Frerin smiled widely. The brunette's eye twitched just slightly, a tell Bilbo had come to recognise whenever the older teen was holding himself back from violence.

"Do I need a reason to talk to my favourite little brother?"

"Don't call me that."

"Would you prefer sister?"

"No."

"It's ok, you know we'll support you as a family~"

"Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth?"

"So brave! You just hang in there little buddy!"

"I swear to god if you don't shut your fucking mouth-"

"You're doing so well! Already up to the anger stage-"

"Frerin-"

"-acceptance is around the corner-"

"_Frerin-_"

"-we could call you Thora?"

"…"

"Of course you're right- Thelma is _much _better!"

Thorin's face darkened considerably, and his fists clenched by his sides, Frerin smiling all the while. Wary of the arguing siblings beside him, Bilbo cautiously reached out for the silver platter of sandwiches to his right.

Suddenly the ground lurched violently, causing several pieces of furniture to shake and catching most of the room's occupants unawares. A glass shattered somewhere, the sound almost lost in the cacophony of groaning rock.

Bilbo pitched forward with a squeak, unable to catch himself on Frerin as he lost balance. Closing his eyes, the teen tensed as the marble floor rushed to meet him.

Several seconds of silence passed, before Bilbo seemed to realise he hadn't hit the floor. The ground felt still below his feet, the only sound in the room Fili and Kili groaning somewhere to his left. He could feel pressure on his arms and warmth beneath his palms. Hesitantly, Bilbo opened his eyes.

A firm chest clad in a white uniform shirt was the first thing he noticed. He could feel hard muscle beneath his palms through the thin material, the fabric doing nothing to shield the heat of the skin beneath. With a sense of dread settling like a lead weight in his gut, Bilbo slowly looked up.

And promptly forgot how to breathe.

Dark cobalt stared down at him in concern, guilt flickering somewhere in those depths. Belatedly, Bilbo realised Thorin's hands were grasped around his biceps, faces mere inches apart.

Or he would have, if he could actually get his mental faculties to respond.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked slowly, eyes searching.

Bilbo tried to reply, he really did, but his mouth didn't seem to be working.

_Nope nope nope too close too close too close-_

He felt his face flush a brilliant scarlet, unable to tear his gaze away from the dark blue above him. The lead weight of earlier seemed to have taken residence somewhere in his chest as Thorin froze, a faint blush creeping over his face.

The pair sprang apart, both backing up a few steps and steadfastly not looking at each other.

Bilbo took a deep breath, willing away the bright flush he knew lit up his face.

"Thorin," Dis growled, and the teen cautiously glanced toward his sister, arms crossed defensively across his chest and staring at a point over her shoulder.

Thorin flinched as he noticed the disarray of the rest of the room. Silver platters and various ornaments lay scattered across the floor, sandwiches littered beside them. One of the coffee tables by the fireplace was lying on its side and Fili and Kili were still sprawled on the ground in a tangle of limbs.

To be fair, that last one could be blamed on their own stupidity, he reasoned.

Grudgingly, he followed his sister out of the room, ignoring the sympathetic glances and chuckling behind them.

Frerin nudged the bright red teen in front of him, as Dis continued teasing Thorin. Bilbo glanced up at the blonde irritably as he grinned widely. The auburn haired teen braced himself for the teasing which was sure to come, silently debating if it was worth disobeying the healer's orders and using his gift.

"I win."

Bilbo's musings screeched to a halt, and he blinked up at the man in confusion.

"…What?"

"I win," Frerin repeated, nodding to Bungo's place by the fire.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Bilbo glanced to his father (carefully avoiding catching the man's eye) and noticed the lack of glass in his hand.

Thinking back, he swore he heard a glass break before he fell…and Frerin had bet that Bungo would spill his drink before Elrond arrived.

"…Damn it."

Frerin smirked, draping a hand over the boy's shoulder.

"First lesson young caterpillar-"

_Caterpillar? _

"-never hustle a hustler," the blonde finished smugly, and Bilbo stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you-are you trying to tell me you made Thorin lose control of his gift for a _bet_?!" he exclaimed incredulously, and Frerin widened his eyes innocently, pointing a finger to his chest.

"Who, me?" the blonde asked in mock surprise, lips twitching into a grin and giving him away.

This time Bilbo really did slap a hand to his forehead.

"Aaaand since I won," Frerin began, grinning once more, "the three of you are going to help me fix up my fixer upper~" he trilled, and Bilbo sighed deeply.

_This is why gambling is wrong,_ he thought firmly, running a hand through his curls in exasperation. Glancing toward the wooden doors, Bilbo couldn't help a pang of sympathy for Thorin.

Absently, he rested a hand over his middle, gaze sweeping the room optimistically only to drop forlornly a moment later.

_No survivors, _Bilbo thought mournfully, his stomach growling in what could only be sorrow as he stared down at the sandwiches scattered across the marble.

/

The wooden door fell closed behind him with a resounding thud, and Thorin couldn't shake the sense of finality about it. The sound echoed through the empty corridor, each reverberation against the marble a small ripple against his senses.

Dis glared at him, dark eyes flashing as she crossed her arms across her chest.

_This is it, _he thought dejectedly to himself, _Frerin was right. This is how I die._

Steeling his resolve, Thorin grit his teeth and held his head high. If he was to leave this world, it would not be as a coward.

Dis rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly.

"Are you being dramatic again? Honestly Thorin, you're as bad as that blonde menace in there at times," she said with a huff, and Thorin firmly kept his chin up.

No matter how much he wanted to relent, Thorin would not show weakness. He would be strong, even in the face of certain peril. Years from now, people would write songs of this moment, he was sure-

His thought process was interrupted as he gave an indignant yelp, glaring at Dis as he rubbed his forehead absently.

"Flicking on the forehead is for children," Thorin grumbled, and Dis rose an elegant brow.

"Perhaps once you stop behaving like one I won't need to anymore."

…_Touche._

"I _was_ going to yell at you for losing control like an idiot- and we _will_ have words later," she added, glaring at the teen, chocolate eyes narrowed in fury. Thorin subtly tried to burrow into himself, shoulders rising defensively.

"Especially since you should always have full control, and god knew what could have happened if it was worse," she continued, and Thorin focused on becoming smaller and smaller.

He could sense a 'but' coming, and where Dis was concerned, that could not be a good sign.

"But… _oh my god you two are adorable!_" Dis squealed, suddenly sounding less like a 33 year old woman and more like the shrieking 15 year old fangirls he saw around campus.

Thorin recoiled as if he had been struck, heat brightening his cheeks.

"Bilbo was it? Oh you two were so damn cute! Is he your boyfriend? When did you meet? Is it love? I hope you've been discreet-"

Thorin spluttered for a moment, mouth opening and closing uselessly at the onslaught of questions. He knew he had vowed to be brave, but cowardice was looking quite attractive right now.

"-and the whole soulful staring, _gazing _into each other's eyes…" she finally trailed off with a sigh.

Thorin wondered if he should save himself the pain and let the marble swallow him whole, quite literally wishing (and considering) letting a hole open in the ground beneath him. Fili and Kili's muffled laughter sounded from behind the door, and suddenly burying the two alive sounded much more attractive.

Homicidal thoughts tended to relax him, Thorin had found.

"Dis, it really isn't like that. At all," he added at her insistent look, and he ran a hand through his hair distractedly.

Something in his chest seemed to tighten, even as his shoulders drooped and he stared fixedly at the cold marble flooring.

"I'm almost certain he hates me, actually," he admitted quietly, scuffing a worn sneaker against the stone. "We…well, I…I fucked up. I keep opening my mouth, but instead of comforting him we just end up arguing again…"

Movement in his peripheral vision made him glance up as Dis fixed him with a knowing look.

"Thorin…"

He sighed heavily, turning away from her. Dis had always seen more than he wanted, and this was no exception.

A small hand squeezed his shoulder gently, sliding down to rub at the small of his back in a familiar motion. Vaguely, Thorin realised the last time Dis had done so he was a child.

"He doesn't hate you, of that I'm certain. You always have been too quick to place blame on yourself," Dis murmured softly, and Thorin shrugged mutely.

"How…how could you possibly know he doesn't hate me? You've known him all of an hour or two," he finally replied, self-consciously shrugging off Dis' hand and looking up at her.

Shaking her head, Dis smiled at him indulgently.

"Trust me on this one, not everyone is as dense as you lot."

Thorin scoffed, but couldn't find it in himself to disagree. Seeing this, Dis smirked and turned back to the wooden door behind them.

Pausing with her hand resting on the cool metal of the handle, she turned her head to gaze at him thoughtfully a moment.

"Just…promise me something, ok Thorin?"

Thorin blinked at her in confusion, the serious tone of her voice catching him off guard. After a beat he nodded, and she turned back to the door.

When Dis did speak, it was quiet, almost a whisper. Thorin found himself straining to hear.

"Don't take anything for granted. Treasure every moment with the people you love."

Thorin stared at his sister's retreating back as she entered the room once more, the noise level suddenly rocketing upward in the empty corridor.

He stood unmoving, suddenly thinking of another moment altogether.

Another corridor at another time, guilt roiling just as unpleasantly through him then as it did now.

"…Thorin?" a familiar voice called, the soft tone barely audible over the clamour of voices echoing into the hall.

Thorin raised his head, blinking away the memory as Bilbo looked at him expectantly from the doorway, Fili and Kili waving at him cheekily from behind.

"Are you ok, Uncle?" Kili asked after a beat, head tilted to the side in concern.

"I…" Thorin began, before the twins rolled their eyes. Before he knew it, they were tugging him forward, one under each arm as Bilbo chuckled.

Unseen, Thorin smiled softly.

_Maybe Dis is right…_he thought to himself, frowning a second later.

_Reminder to self: never let Dis know that._

/

Bilbo bit back an 'I told you so' as Fili grudgingly picked his phone up from the floor, glaring up at his twin the whole time.

"Kee, what part of this do you not understand?"

"The core concept, obviously," Kili shot back, rolling his eyes as Fili huffed.

"You tap the screen, bird flies up. Don't tap the screen, bird falls. Don't touch the pipes," he said slowly, as though speaking to a small child.

To be fair, there wasn't a lot of difference.

Kili huffed irritably, holding his hand out expectantly. Fili glared for a moment in warning and his twin rolled his eyes again. Reluctantly, the blonde passed over the phone.

"You know, even _Uncle_ can get past the first pipe," Fili grumbled, ignoring Thorin's indignant scowl.

"I _do _know how to use technology, smartass."

"What did you score?" Bilbo asked curiously, and Fili snickered. Thorin glared at both of them.

"…Six," he muttered almost inaudibly, bristling as Frerin tittered from behind him.

"Oh Thorin, we can't all have such awe inspiring manual dexterity as Fili and I," he continued, mocking smile on his face.

Thorin's no doubt witty comeback was cut off as Kili threw the phone again, glaring at the small device as it clattered to the floor.

Fili gave a wordless growl and bent to retrieve his phone (again), pocketing it straight away.

"This is why we can't have nice things, Kee," Fili muttered, shaking his head as his twin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry, just that fuc-ffffudging, that fudging bird makes me so angry," Kili quickly substituted, as Dis glared at him from her place by the fire.

"_She always knows!"_ he whispered indignantly, and Bilbo fought an amused grin.

Glancing over, he caught his father turning away, continuing whatever conversation the adults were having. Bilbo bit his lip worriedly, as he fought the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Bungo had seen Thorin lose control, and Bilbo didn't know what to feel about that.

On the one hand, his father was obviously old friends with Gandalf.

On the other, this was _his father._

His father, who had always seemed so uncomfortable around the Gifted, made Bilbo feel like an outsider in his own home, who even hesitated _talking _about gifts, had witnessed a Gifted lose control today.

He couldn't help the tiny curl of resentment for Bungo that raised its head from somewhere deep in his heart. Bilbo sighed, running a hand through his curls.

A curt knock at the door interrupted the awkward feeling, and a moment later Elrond swept in.

Pausing at the mess that greeted him, the headmaster simply smiled in amusement before taking a seat at the (thankfully) undisturbed desk at the end of the room. Elrond motioned for the adults to join him, three chairs already opposite the desk.

"Good afternoon, I trust you all had a pleasant morning?" Elrond greeted, though his smile never quite reached his eyes.

The other's murmured various greetings of their own, as Gandalf took his place by Elrond's side. Insisting he was not as frail as everyone seemed to believe him to be, the elder man chose to lean on the gnarled wood of his staff rather than sink into a seat.

Bilbo bit his lip, joining his friends and dragging over a chair behind the others. He clasped his hands nervously in his lap, glancing every now and then towards his father to his left.

Elronds's expression grew sombre, and he rested clasped hands on the smooth surface in front of him with a sigh. His frame seemed to stiffen, tensed as if for battle, and Bilbo couldn't help the feeling of dread that unfurled in his chest.

"First of all, I would like to say I truly am sorry for your loss. All of you," he added, gaze encompassing the teenagers in the room before resting on Dis, Frerin and Bungo once more.

"Vili Durin's memorial will take place as per our previous discussion, is that satisfactory?"

Dis gave a calm nod, and Frerin placed a hand on her shoulder in support. He smiled at her arched brow.

"If you don't mind, Mr Baggins, I feel it would be best for us to hold a combined memorial here, on the school grounds. I understand that Belladonna was not Gifted, but her sacrifice should be honoured. Particularly given the circumstances," Elrond reasoned, and Bungo nodded easily.

"Provided nothing impacts the funeral arrangements already underway, I have no problem with it," he said slowly, eyes narrowing as Elrond's expression turned apologetic.

Elrond sighed, and Bilbo straightened in his seat.

"I regret to inform you that Belladonna Baggins has been cremated, as per the government's instructions."

**A/N: Anyone else know the game they were playing? I know that feel ._. horrible game  
Anyways, as always, let me know what you thought and flick me a review :D  
Update soon xx**


	12. The Flowers

**A/N: Hey guys :D  
Thanks so much for all the support with this story- you guys are the best!**

"I regret to inform you that Belladonna Baggins has been cremated, as per the government's instructions."

There was a long silence, as though everyone in the room collectively held their breath. Bilbo froze, and in front of him the teen could see his father stiffen.

"…Pardon?" Bungo asked quietly, voice devoid of all emotion.

Elrond sighed, rubbing fingertips to his temples.

"The government have informed us that Mrs Baggins has been cremated. I'm sorry, I know you had other plans."

Bungo paled, lips a hard line as he narrowed his eyes. The man seemed like a statue, scarcely breathing as he stared down Elrond.

When he did finally speak his words were clipped, tone hard with an icy edge Bilbo couldn't remember ever hearing before now.

"So you are telling me not only was my wife's body never released, but she has been forcibly cremated against the requests of her will and her family's wishes."

Elrond looked pained at that but said nothing, unable to deny any of the accusations of the man opposite.

Bilbo stared down at his hands, swallowing past the lump in his throat as they shook.

_This isn't what she wanted, this isn't how it's supposed to be…_he couldn't help thinking, the thought seeming to play on repeat in his numbed mind.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, the weight registering somewhere at the back of his thoughts, but Bilbo couldn't bring himself to look up from his hands. White hot anger unfurled in his gut as Elrond began speaking again.

His hands stopped shaking.

"I know this is difficult to understand, but believe me when I say it is for the best-"

"_No!_" Bilbo and Bungo snarled as one, surging to their feet. There was a clatter as Bilbo's chair skittered back, and both Baggins' looked at each other in shock.

It was only a second, but in that brief moment both could see the pain in the other's eyes, the fury there.

In that second, they were the closest they'd ever been.

Simultaneously, father and son turned to glare down at Elrond.

"Perhaps it would be best if we were to reschedule for tomorrow, Dis?" the headmaster murmured, eyes never leaving the pair in front of him.

"Of course," Dis agreed easily, as she and the others filed out.

Fili and Kili looked worriedly at one another, hesitating as they looked between Bilbo and Bungo. With a small smile, Frerin placed a hand on each of the twin's backs and none too gently ushered them out of the room.

Kili opened his mouth to argue, but Frerin simply shook his head softly, sharing a glance with Dis as the three walked into the corridor beyond.

Thorin grit his teeth, feeling utterly helpless as Dis grabbed his shoulder in an iron grip and dragged him out behind her.

He struggled for a moment, staring after the firm set of Bilbo's shoulders before finally allowing himself to follow his sister. The mahogany doors closed behind them with a sharp click, the sound like a gunshot in the silence. Thorin stared at the ground, hands curled into fists at his side.

"Bilbo needs us there-"

"It's best if we leave it. This is something they need to do," Dis interjected calmly. Wordlessly, Thorin glared at the ground, muscle ticking in his jaw.

Further down the corridor Fili and Kili appeared to be having misgivings of their own, arguing heatedly with Frerin and gesturing towards the thick wooden door. Meeting her brother's eye, Dis nodded to Frerin who saluted back, firmly grasping the twins and marching them down the hall and out of sight.

Once Fili and Kili's indignant squawks faded away, Dis turned her attention to her youngest brother.

"This…this is bullshit," Thorin spat, hands clenched into fists at his side.

"It is," Dis conceded, and he couldn't help glancing up at her in surprise. She gave a dry chuckle then, shaking her head softly.

"I'm not going to reprimand you for bad language when there's no other word for it. It_ is_ bullshit," she added, frowning again as she stared at the doors, "that said, there's nothing we can do from here-"

"I'm not leaving," Thorin cut in, voice firm with finality, and Dis couldn't help the surge of affection that warmed her chest.

"No," she agreed, amusement lacing her tone, "I _was _going to suggest you hide in the next corridor so you don't get caught."

/

The anger and hurt in the air was almost tangible, and Bilbo felt he would drown in it.

Silence reigned once again, as Elrond stared back at them, face impassive.

"In what way could this possibly be for the best? Explain. _Now_," Bungo ordered, gritting his teeth as a muscle in his jaw ticked.

"I apologise, but that is top secret. As you know, I am a member of the council and I assure you-"

"That's not good enough!" he snapped, and Bilbo flinched at the volume, "Who agreed to this? Give me a name!"

"All council decisions are made anonymously. I understand that this is a difficult situation, but I am afraid what's done is done," Elrond said evenly, and Bilbo found himself storming up to the edge of the desk.

"Is it not enough that she died for you?" Bilbo snapped, emerald eyes narrowed in fury. Elrond gave a small start as he stared up at the youth, slate grey eyes narrowing.

"How do you-"

"Died for- Bilbo, what are you talking about?" Bungo cut in, fixing his son with a heavy stare. All at once, Bilbo seemed to wilt, shoulders slumping as the anger appeared to leave him entirely.

Instead, tired eyes stared back, and Bungo almost flinched as he saw another pair of green in his mind, the sight leaving a now familiar aching sensation in his chest.

When Bilbo's gaze slid away Bungo was almost glad for it.

"I saw her that night," Bilbo admitted quietly, barely able to speak around the lump in his throat, "I thought it was a dream or something, but I…" he trailed off, eyes fixed down at his feet.

"What…what did she say?" Bungo breathed, and Bilbo's shoulders slumped.

Slowly, Bilbo raised his head to stare at his father, emerald eyes misted over as he lost himself in the memory. Elrond watched on silently, all but forgotten.

"She said…she said she had to go, that if she didn't there wouldn't be anything left to come back to…" he murmured, brow furrowed, "what on earth could she mean by that?"

Bilbo fixed Bungo with an unwavering gaze, searching the older man's face for some kind of answer. He felt like a small child again, begging his father to tell him the monster in the closet wasn't real, that everything would be fine.

Bungo looked away.

"Perhaps it would be best to take a break for a spell, Bilbo?" Gandalf said softly, and Bilbo opened his mouth to argue back.

"Go. We will speak later," Bungo murmured, carefully not looking up as Bilbo blanched.

"You- you can't! I have just as much right-"

"_Now,_" Bungo snapped, and Bilbo flinched back as if he had been slapped.

Gently, Gandalf rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him out of the office. Elrond nodded to him once, before turning back to Bungo and offering him a drink.

Wordlessly, Bungo accepted the glass.

/

Thorin tensed as he felt two pairs of footsteps against the marble, both approaching the doors.

A pale Bilbo stepped through, followed by Gandalf, features pulled into a deep frown. Thorin felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as his friend stood motionless, staring down at his hands mutely.

"Bilbo…" Gandalf murmured, and when he didn't look up, Gandalf rested a hand on his shoulder once more.

Shrugging off the hand in a stiff motion, Bilbo stepped away, footsteps echoing as he walked down the corridor. It wasn't until the soft footfalls faded that Gandalf slumped against his staff, sighing heavily.

Thorin glared at the man, willing him to get out of the way so he could catch up to his friend, huffing as Gandalf made no move to do so.

Slowly Gandalf reached into his robes, revealing his signature pipe. Regarding it morosely for a moment, the man returned it to his pocket regretfully.

"Oh Bella…he needs you," Gandalf whispered, head bowed for a moment.

After what felt like an age to Thorin (but was closer to mere minutes) Gandalf straightened, turning and entering the room with the same thoughtful frown on his features.

The door rested closed against the frame without clicking shut, and Thorin huffed as he moved to follow Bilbo. Just as quickly the teen froze as he felt footsteps approaching again.

Holding back a growl, Thorin kept hidden glancing out at the corridor irritably. How was he supposed to help Bilbo if he was stuck hiding in some hallway all day?

As the soft impact against the marble sounded in Thorin's mind, he glanced out into the hall and stiffened.

No one was there.

_No, _Thorin amended as his irritation faded away, _someone couldn't help himself and doubled back._

Silently, the door opened without a sound as someone unseen slipped through, the door resting against the frame without a click once more.

Thorin raised an eye brow in amusement as he noticed the small sandwich wedged in the door, preventing it from closing all the way.

_Cute,_ he thought with a smirk, leaning against the smooth wall behind him.

/

Bilbo frowned as he moved to hide behind a small coffee table, the world shifting in shades of grey. A headache had begun at his temples, the light pounding already an insistent throb.

Bungo, Gandalf and Elrond all sat at the large desk to his right, the bright white of Elrond's form a constant reminder to stay hidden.

Their voices took on the now familiar muffled quality, and Bilbo scowled at the unfairness of it all.

_I need to get closer, _he decided, barely able to make out words from his place at the front of the room.

Slowly, the teen shuffled forward, keeping as close to the ground as possible. The drone of illegible words continued, and Bilbo counted that as a win.

If they were still talking they didn't know he was here.

Painstakingly, Bilbo shuffled forward little by little, the large bookshelf in his sights stubbornly just out of reach.

Elrond stood, rubbing his temples, and Bilbo froze.

_Don't look up don't look up don't look up-_

The headmaster turned, retrieving a new bottle and turning back to Bungo opposite. Taking a seat once more, Elrond poured the amber liquid into two glasses, topping up what was already there in his own and refilling Bungo's.

Bilbo sagged in relief, finally managing to reach the coveted bookshelf.

From his new vantage point, Bilbo could hear the men's voices clearly despite the ringing in his ears as his headache intensified.

_I'll have to be quick,_ the teen realised, his body feeling weak and sluggish.

"-been trying, it's just…" Bungo trailed off, apparently at a loss, as Gandalf placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"He _does _take after his mother after all, does he not?"

Bungo scoffed, downing his drink in a smooth motion. Elrond said nothing, merely poured the other man a fresh glass.

"That's the problem," he whispered, staring down into his drink.

_What…what does that mean?_ Bilbo thought helplessly, utterly thrown by the statement.

Frowning, Bungo slid the glass back to Elrond, amber sloshing for a moment before settling. Gandalf had a decidedly proud gleam to his eye as Bungo straightened in his seat, shoulders no longer slumped in defeat.

"Which is exactly why I need an explanation," he continued, tone strong with conviction, "Not only was my wife killed because of you, but now you rob her of her final resting place."

Elrond shifted uneasily, and Bilbo winced at the spike of pain in his head.

"I truly am sorry, but that information is sensitive- you know this Bungo," Elrond added as Bungo seemed about to object, "If I could give you the answers, believe me I would, but my hands are tied."

Bungo grit his teeth, hazel eyes hard with anger as Elrond sighed.

"All I can tell you is your wife's death was not meaningless, and she deserves to be honoured as a hero," he continued softly, and Bungo looked away.

Gandalf looked between the two, his expression grave. Another wave of pain shot through Bilbo's head, and he clenched his teeth.

_Not yet, just a little longer, _he pleaded, hands white knuckled at his sides.

"Who cares if she was a hero?" Bungo growled back, and Bilbo tensed.

Elrond seemed thrown off as the man stood, resting both hands against the smooth wood of the desk.

"All death is meaningless!" he continued, voice raising in volume, "it doesn't matter if it was heroic, or honourable- it all means _nothing_. My wife is dead. Bilbo's mother is dead, and we're left with _nothing!_"

Bilbo was tempted to cover his ears at the raw emotion in his father's voice, each word causing a horrible pang in his chest. His head ached and his vision seemed to darken for a moment, but Bilbo couldn't help but think the agony in his chest was worse.

Bungo collapsed back into his chair with a dry laugh, the sound more grating and pitiful than it should have been.

"And do you know what the worst of it is?" he whispered defeated.

Bilbo strained forward to catch his next words, soft as they were.

"The flowers."

Confusion flickered across Elrond's face for an instant, a stark contrast to the sudden understanding that lit up Gandalf's.

Bilbo sat frozen in shock.

"For every day I tended her garden, I hoped she'd be there the next. I knew she never would, of course, but _that's _where my Bella belongs. _That's _where Bilbo's mother belongs," Bungo breathed, each word spoken with such heart-broken reverence it made Bilbo dizzy.

Head spinning and hands shaking, Bilbo stumbled to his feet, uncaring that Elrond was certain to notice him as he lurched towards the door.

Elrond never looked up.

Behind him, he could still hear his father's muffled voice, could still hear Gandalf's as he comforted him. No one seemed to have noticed him, and for that he was grateful.

The door in front of him opened of its own accord, and Bilbo gave a soft gasp as he was pulled through quickly, the door closing soundlessly behind him.

His vision blackened around the edges, and the teen blinked quickly to clear it. Grey eyes that should have been blue looked down at him, and Bilbo slumped forward weakly as the rest of the world flooded back in, his figure flickering back into view.

Thorin stared down at the shaking form in front of him, Bilbo slouching forward as he fought to regain his breath. Wordlessly, Thorin steered the teen down the hall, not stopping until the two slipped into a room.

Tugging a chair over with a scrape, Thorin gently helped Bilbo into it, the teen still frighteningly pale.

"You idiot," he muttered, and Bilbo rubbed a hand against his forehead tiredly, thoughts feeling strangely muddled.

"Why am I an idiot this time?" Bilbo grumbled, and he heard Thorin snort to himself from somewhere behind him.

Glancing around, Bilbo realised with a lifting heart and stumbornly growling stomach the two were in a kitchen. Small cupboards covered the tiled walls, and Bilbo had the vague thought that this was the first room without marble he'd seen in a long time.

Thorin wandered behind him, clattering around as Bilbo closed his eyes, savouring the moment of peace.

"You shouldn't have used your gift, idiot," Thorin added, as if in afterthought, and Bilbo chuckled weakly.

"Not the smartest thing I've ever done," Bilbo agreed, smiling as he could practically _hear_ Thorin roll his eyes.

The smile faded as he thought back to Bungo's words. Something in his chest tightened, and a lump formed in his throat. Where was he even supposed to _begin_ sorting through what had happened?

Guilt rose in his chest like bile, and Bilbo rubbed it idly, opening his mouth-

-and promptly jerking in surprise as a sandwich was shoved in.

"Mmmph!" Bilbo exclaimed indignantly, even as he fought the urge to cry with happiness because _food!_

"Thought so," Thorin said smugly, and Bilbo poked his tongue out at him as he reached for the next one.

A comfortable silence passed as Thorin watched Bilbo practically inhale the batch of sandwiches, lips twitching into an almost smile as the teen's face slowly became a healthy pink again.

"What were you, Frerin and the twins all talking about earlier?" Thorin asked after a time, curiosity lighting his tone.

Bilbo groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"That bad, huh?"

Sitting up, Bilbo sighed, running a hand through his messy auburn curls as he filled Thorin in on the bet, and his subsequent loss.

"…and that's why betting is immoral," he finished in a grumble, huffing indignantly at Thorin's poorly concealed chuckle behind a cough.

"Well, what if you had won?" the brunette shot back, "What would _you _get them to do?"

Bilbo thought for a moment, hand tapping his chin before a wide smirk crossed his features.

"Something humiliating- like dance in the dining hall in front of everyone."

"Naked I'm guessing?"

"Obviously. Or maybe run around the campus naked?"

"In front of Saruman- can you imagine his face?!" Thorin cut in, mouth lifted in a hooked grin.

"Oh my god, yes! With flowers in their hair-"

"-singing 'we are so pretty'-"

"-in front of everyone during the next match!" Bilbo finished, and the two dissolved into laughter.

The pair laughed for far longer than the joke warranted, really, but Bilbo found he didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard- or in fact, at all- and the teen had a strong feeling Thorin was the same.

Thorin allowed himself that moment of happiness, forgetting his guilt and worry as he lost himself in the feeling.

_It feels…nice_, Bilbo decided, as he smiled in response to Thorin's own quirked lips.

And this time it was real.

**A/N:** **So pretty serious chappie but hopefully the ending took the edge off a little :)  
Let me know what you thought, thanks so much for all the reviews and everything on this story- seriously, you guys are awesome :)**


	13. The Empty Corridor

**A/N: I live! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to come out- life and stuff blegh but i promise I'll finish this no matter what. Extra long chapter to make up for the wait, thanks so much to everyone still reading and showing your support, you guys are the best xxxxx**

_Why did I ever want to go back to classes?_ Bilbo wondered, huffing as he picked himself up from the faded dark blue padded mat below.

"Come on little bunny, you can do better than _that_," Bofur teased with a grin, and Bilbo rolled his eyes.

All around them the room filled with the sounds of thuds and grunts as bodies were thrown on the mats, Beorn's booming voice rising above the cacophony with ease. The entire first year beta class were split into sparring pairs while the alpha class took a lesson on theory, much to Fili and Kili's disappointment and Bilbo's own dismay.

Bilbo swiped a hand across his forehead, grimacing at the sweat dampened curls. Bofur ran a hand through his own unruly hair, and Bilbo couldn't help a small wince at the mess of tangled dark waves, the snarled strands reminding him of a bird nest.

_The cons of wearing a hat all the time,_ Bilbo supposed.

Ignoring the protests of his aching muscles and joints, the teen dropped into the still awkward but almost familiar fighting stance Frerin had taught him, bending his knees and keeping his limbs relaxed. The more he practiced the stance the easier it seemed to become, his muscles burning less each time as his body began to commit it to memory.

"Right then, let's try this again, eh?" Bofur continued jovially, dropping into his own stance with one foot in front of the other.

Mutely Bilbo nodded.

All morning he'd been unable to focus, head spinning and chest constricting whenever he thought about it too much. The memorial was tomorrow, and Bilbo couldn't help wishing for time to move a little slower, if only so he could sort through the tangle of emotions pulling him down like a lead weight.

And so naturally time seemed to go faster, contrary thing it is.

A solid smack to his side sent Bilbo sprawling across the mat, the teen forcibly pulled from his thoughts with a yelp. Bofur was above him in an instant, eyes looking over him worriedly and lips tugged down in a small frown. Bilbo waved him off with a sigh, accepting the hand offered and was pulled to his feet.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were ready-" the brunette began, but Bilbo cut him off with a small shake of his head.

"No, not your fault. I've just been…well, a little distracted I suppose," Bilbo finished with a shrug, flinching again at the burning in his shoulder as Bofur clapped a hand to it.

"Of course you would be, that's only natural. Do you want to talk about it? I can be a great listener," he added with a smile, but Bilbo shook his head softly.

"No I'll be alright, thanks for the offer though. I think I just need to…I don't know, think about everything I guess," he replied, wincing at the wording, but Bofur was already nodding.

"Just be sure to not think too much- a dangerous past time, I've heard," Bofur warned, eyes crinkling slightly in the corners with amusement.

Bilbo found his own lips quirking up into a small smile, seemingly of their own accord.

The metallic clanging of the bell rang through the room, echoing off the walls loudly. As one, all the students straightened, collecting their bags from the end of the mats and shuffling together into the hall.

Ori pushed his way through the crowd to join them, greeting Bilbo before falling deep into conversation with Bofur, wool hat crammed on his head once more. Bilbo let his mind wander again, feet mechanically carrying him forward even as he fell behind the other two.

He knew he needed to see Bungo, of that he was certain. It had been several days since Bilbo had snuck into Elrond's office, and the teen still hadn't found the courage to face his father after what had happened.

Bilbo couldn't seem to make heads or tails of his father anymore, a man who had always been upfront with who he was and what he believed.

It was…

_Unsettling, _Bilbo decided, frowning down at his sneakers.

For perhaps the third or fourth time that day, Bilbo found himself landing unceremoniously on his backside, having bounced off something in front of him. With a growing sense of anxiety, the teen glanced up.

_Not something, someone_, he amended, eyes wide as Bolg glared down at him.

"You better watch where you're going, runt," he growled, scooping his bag up.

A curl of anger flared up in Bilbo's chest at that, and before he could think rationally (or at all, really), he had pushed himself to his feet, glaring straight back.

"My name isn't runt," he snapped, and Bolg narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer.

The surrounding students seemed to take a collective step back as a small bubble of space opened up around the two, Bolg's massive bulk and stature towering over Bilbo's own.

"That so? You look like a runt to me," Bolg drawled, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

"How old are you?" Bilbo asked incredulously, holding up a hand to interrupt as Bolg opened his mouth, "No, no, never mind, I'm sure you can't count that high."

A laugh went up at that from the other students, and Bolg's mouth closed with a click as his features darkened in anger. Bilbo stared defiantly back, not flinching even as Bolg slammed a metallic arm into the marble beside his head, the impact leaving a crack in the rock and flecks of white dust across his shoulder.

"I suggest you shut your mouth before someone shuts it for you," he hissed, and Bilbo raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"I bet you were up all night trying to come up with that," he said drily, pointedly ignoring the feeling of dark satisfaction as Bolg snarled.

A small voice at the back of his mind begged him to stop, wanted to know what the hell he was doing but it was too late- he was burning, burning with misplaced rage and anger and the sharp pain of grief beneath it all, his chest aching with the need to _hurt, to lash out-_

Loud whispers reverberated around the hall, and from the corner of his eye Bilbo could see a couple phones being held up.

Bolg's snort of amusement brought him back to the situation at hand, and Bilbo stared at him unblinkingly.

"I remember who you are now," the bigger teen said, grinning, "and I was wondering something…"

"Oh? That must have hurt," Bilbo replied casually, ignoring the wave of sniggers through the hall. To his surprise however, Bolg didn't look upset in the slightest. If anything, the boy's grin widened.

"I was wondering how your mum was going?"

Bilbo froze, eyes wide as he stared at Bolg. The hall was silent, and all he could hear was his own blood rushing past his ears. Slowly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Bolg didn't seem to notice, mouth opening and closing as he continued talking, but Bilbo couldn't hear anything. His mind was numb, and it was as if time had stopped entirely.

Any other time Bilbo would marvel at the irony of that.

"-could say she's been feeling a little stiff, if you know what I-" Bolg broke off as Bilbo threw the first punch, smack into the teen's nose. His chest swelled with dark satisfaction at the soft crunch.

From there everything seemed to move in fast forward.

Crimson gushing over his face, Bolg snarled and lashed out, Bilbo barely ducking the metal coated fist before a hard kick to his side threw him off his feet. Hitting the marble below with a hard smack, the impact leaving his ears ringing, Bilbo barely had time to roll out of the way before Bolg was slamming into the floor, cracking the stone where Bilbo had just been. Scrambling to his feet, he almost doubled over again from the pain shooting through his ribs.

All around he could hear students yelling, some even cheering as Bolg surged to his feet, launching himself towards Bilbo's slight form. With a wordless snarl, Bolg hurled punch after punch towards Bilbo, gritting his teeth as the smaller teen continued to duck and weave out of the way.

There was no thought, no aimless worry only the need to move, to _do._ His head pounded and his ribs ached but all Bilbo could feel was the rhythmic thrumming of his veins, the vindictive pleasure each time he dodged a strike or ducked a punch. His nerves were alight with the burn of adrenaline, his blood singing and his heart constricting. It was good. More than good, it was addictive.

And then Bolg's hand was around his neck.

Bilbo's head slammed back into the marble wall with a sharp crack. His vision faded to black for a moment, stars erupting behind closed eyelids as pain flared through the back of his head. Opening his eyes with a gasp, his fingers tore weakly at the cold metal around his throat. Bolg grinned as he watched Bilbo wheeze, taking a moment to admire the blotchy red and purple spreading across his face.

Bilbo couldn't breathe.

His head felt as though it had been cleaved in two as wave after wave of sharp pain shot through his skull. The ache of his ribs throbbed in time with the rapid beating of his heart, the rushing of blood a constant roar of sound drowned out only by the deafening ringing in his ears. The room around him seemed to spin as steel squeezed tighter.

_Bilbo couldn't breathe._

Suddenly he was falling forward, landing with a smack on hands and knees against the marble and gasping for air, deep greedy gulps as the burning of his lungs began to abate. His head still spun, but the dizziness slowly retreated as he rested his forehead against the cool marble floor, the dark spots steadily fading from his vision. His ribs ached and his head pounded, but once he was almost certain he wouldn't pass out, Bilbo looked up.

Nothing.

The marble hall he knelt in was empty. No students, no Bolg, just eerie silence as the world ebbed and flowed in shades of dark blue.

"What…what the…?" Bilbo murmured in bewilderment, looking left and right cautiously, "Is anyone there?" he called hoarsely, a hand rubbing at his throat as pain flared up.

His voice didn't carry as it should have down the empty corridor, and instead of echoes he was met with silence, as if his words had been swallowed by this strange place. Bilbo shivered as the emptiness seemed to press closer, as if it would suffocate him. He felt…wrong, somehow, like he shouldn't be here. The corridor became colder, if possible, and Bilbo climbed to his feet unsteadily.

This place was creepy, and he had had enough now thank you very much.

Breathing deeply and slowly, Bilbo focused on lowering his heart rate. The dark blue reminded him of the grey of his gift, so hopefully… A familiar buzzing crept over his skin, and Bilbo exhaled in relief.

A wave of muffled sound greeted him, and Bilbo opened his eyes with a start.

A mass of students made up the sea of grey around him as Bolg looked this way and that, hand clutched to his bleeding nose. The dark grey stain across the teen's pale grey shirt made Bilbo feel nauseous as he slowly edged away, pushing through the grey forms of students.

Once he was free of the crowd, Bilbo broke into a jog, gasping in pain as his ribs throbbed with the motion. Ducking into an empty classroom, he sank down against the back of the door with a sigh.

Covering his mouth with his hand, Bilbo flickered back into visibility.

_What the hell did I just do?_

A shadow stretched across the wall, and Bilbo felt a sinking sensation as Nori melted into existence.

Without a word, the older boy sat up on the closest desk, smirk firmly in place. Bilbo just stared down at his hands, his insides writhing uncomfortably. A beat of silence passed before Nori crossed his legs, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the desk beneath him.

_Tap, tap-tap, tap, tap-tap, tap-_

Bilbo sighed heavily, resting his forehead on his knees as he wrapped his arms around himself. Shoving the mystery of the dark blue corridor to the back of his mind, Bilbo decided to focus on one thing at a time.

"So…I guess you saw everything, right?"

Nori didn't respond, and for a moment Bilbo thought perhaps the shadow user hadn't heard him, mumbling into his knees as he was.

"Not all of it, no. Enough to say I'm impressed though."

Bilbo glanced up in confusion at this, and Nori shot him a roguish grin.

"Hard to say if you're brave or stupid, but it doesn't really matter," he continued, hopping off the table in a smooth motion, "what matters is letting me have a look at those ribs."

Bilbo grimaced as he accepted Nori's hand up, hissing in pain as he was pulled roughly to his feet.

"I haven't…I haven't _broken _anything have I?" he asked a little fearfully, but relaxed as Nori shook his head.

"If you'd broken a rib you'd know about it. Trust me," he added, tugging Bilbo's shirt up just high enough to see the bruised skin, already mottled blue and purple.

"You've broken a rib?" Bilbo couldn't stop himself from asking, and Nori lowered the teen's shirt with a grin.

"A couple actually, different times mind you but bloody painful all the same. I'm thinking you should get some ice on that," he added, and Bilbo nodded slowly.

Glancing out the door, Nori beckoned Bilbo to follow him once the coast was clear, leading the youth through the halls to the sickbay. As they passed through corridor after corridor, Nori whistling some unknown tune to himself, Bilbo mulled the conversation over in his mind.

"Why didn't you stop me?" he suddenly blurted, and Nori paused, looking behind him at the teen thoughtfully.

"Because I know what it's like. That dark, angry emotion, where all you want to do is lash out and hurt someone. You wanna make someone else feel the pain you're feeling," he replied quietly, "it's a slippery slope and once you start it can be hard to stop."

"Then…why would you…?" Bilbo murmured in confusion, and Nori turned away, walking forwards once more.

When he did finally respond, it was so quiet Bilbo almost missed it entirely.

"Because you're a lot smarter than I was."

There was no more talking after that, and the two steadily made their way to sickbay.

/

Bilbo hissed as he pressed the icepack to his bare side, his shirt a crumpled mess beside him.

Oin muttered irritably to himself as he scribbled something down, the scratch of pen scraping across paper the only sound in the quiet medical room.

Besides Nori's tapping fingers, that is.

_Tap, tap-tap, tap, tap-tap, tap-_

Bilbo grit his teeth, ignoring the insistent patting of fingertips against marble. Oin straightened with a huff, and Bilbo flinched as the man levelled him with a glare.

"So, care to tell me who gave you those bruises, laddie?" Oin held up a hand as Bilbo looked ready to interject, "and no, don't give me that 'I fell down the stairs' nonsense. I know a kick mark when I see it," he added with a huff.

"You should see the other guy," Nori piped up with a grin, and Bilbo shot him a scowl.

Oin either didn't hear him, or ignored him entirely.

Several moments of silence passed, and Oin straightened with a frown, shaking his head.

"The bruises across your throat and back are healed, but I'd rather leave the ribs to heal more naturally. I don't make a habit of using too much energy on something that could have been avoided, lad," he said, staring at Bilbo meaningfully, "Just keep pressing that ice to the bruising and it should go down soon, but you'll be in for a rough night."

Bilbo nodded mutely, and Oin hesitated, turning back to the stubborn youth.

"If you get worse though, come back and see me," the healer added gruffly, grabbing his papers from earlier and marching out the door without a backward glance. As the door fell closed with a click, Bilbo sighed.

"So…this is your third time in sickbay this term, huh? That's gotta be some kind of record," Nori said cheerfully, and Bilbo huffed.

"If I didn't have bad luck, I'm afraid I wouldn't have luck at all."

Nori scoffed, straightening from where he was leaning on the wall. Yawning, he stretched both arms above his head with a satisfying click, rocking back on his heels for a moment before giving Bilbo a mock salute.

"While this has been fun- and I must admit I'm impressed- it's almost dinner time and I promised Ori I'd help him with something."

"Thanks for earlier, Nori," Bilbo responded quietly, shooting Nori a small smile. The redhead winked at him, hooked grin in place.

"How about you owe me one, eh?"

Bilbo watched as his body melded with the shadow behind him, the darkness stretching long and thin before zipping under the door and out of sight.

Alone once more, Bilbo ran a hand through his curls with a sigh, flinching as the movement proved unpleasant for his battered side. A quick glance at the old clock on the wall revealed final period was almost over, and Bilbo briefly entertained the thought of walking into Saruman's class late.

Blanching, he quickly decided that perhaps he could use some alone time instead.

Careful to keep the icepack tucked against his side, Bilbo slid off the medical bench and out into the hall, letting his feet guide him down the twisting corridors and deeper into the academy.

As he turned into a narrow passageway, fast steps could be heard behind him. On impulse, Bilbo let himself use his gift. The swirling grey was a comfort compared to the cold dark blue of earlier, and for a moment he let himself bask in the warmth of his Gift. It had been awhile since he had used it, and Bilbo could admit to himself he had missed it. The muffled footsteps quickened as they grew louder and Bilbo flattened himself against the smooth wall as a grey blur ran by.

_Kili?_

No more than a second later another grey blur sped by, catching Kili by the arm and pulling him to a stop, the two struggling for a moment. With a snarl, Kili made as if to punch Fili. Seeing this coming, Fili caught his brother's fist, mumbling something that was too muffled for Bilbo to make out. Kili's face crumpled as he seemed to go limp, falling forward into his twin's arms. From his place against the wall, Bilbo thought he could make out the shine of unshed tears.

A feeling of wrongness swept over him, and Bilbo slowly edged away, careful not to make any noise. He thought he heard a snippet about Vili, and knew he shouldn't be intruding on such a private conversation, even as he felt a small surge of pride in Fili.

If either of the twins wanted to talk about it, Bilbo would be happy to listen. In the meantime however, he left the two in the passageway, unease coiling in his gut despite his relief all the same.

Still using his gift, Bilbo set off through the grey halls once more, brushing a hand against the cool marble wall as he wandered aimlessly. Looking around curiously, Bilbo spared a thought for the eerie blue haze he had fallen into earlier.

It was as if he had fallen _through _Bolg, but that didn't make any sense either…

Scrubbing a hand through his curls in frustration, Bilbo huffed and became visible once more, the flood of colour making him screw his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, Bilbo found himself at the entrance to Thranduil's garden.

Wandering through the archway, the sight that greeted him made him freeze in surprise, his mouth forming a small 'o' in shock.

Pink carnations rustled softly in the light breeze, the bright colour stark against the soft greens of the rest of the garden. Organised in a wide circle around the stone bench, the sheer number of them formed a carpet across the ground, soft pink petals swaying delicately. A lump formed in Bilbo's throat as he thought of his mother, his chest filling with the familiar ache of longing. Swallowing thickly, he stumbled forward a step into the garden.

Bilbo started slightly in surprise as Thranduil turned to face him with a bored expression, the teen having not noticed the taller blonde as he gaped at the flowers.

"Sorry Thranduil, I uh, I didn't see you 'cos of the…you know," Bilbo waved awkwardly towards the carnations, flushing as Thranduil raised a thin eyebrow.

"The '_you know' _is called pink carnations."

Bilbo flushed further, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

"I know, I just…I was surprised you remembered," he trailed off weakly, and something in Thranduil's face seemed to relax slightly.

"Don't read into it too much," the blonde said flatly, turning back to the winding vine he was growing with a flick of his wrist. Slowly, the green tendril curled up from the ground, twisting and snaking its way above the pair's heads. Bilbo watched curiously, mind blissfully blank as emerald eyes followed the plant on its journey.

"The flowers are for you," Thranduil said abruptly, face turned stubbornly away.

For a moment, Bilbo scrambled to reply, mouth opening and closing without a sound. Thranduil's shoulders stiffened, posture straightening in tension, as if his own statement had taken him by surprise. Bilbo chuckled, smiling as the other twisted to stare at him, grey eyes searching for any sign of mocking.

"Hypothetically…it would be a really nice thing to do for a friend," Bilbo said softly, lips twitching as he fought the urge to smile. Thranduil narrowed his eyes, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Shifting awkwardly- and Bilbo had never thought to equate awkward with Thranduil- the other boy shrugged stiffly, head tilting back to stare at the new vine above them.

"I thought the garden needed more colour, but I made too many," he began slowly, voice once more a bored drawl, "…need to get rid of a few," tilting his head, Thranduil fixed Bilbo with a meaningful gaze.

Bilbo stared back for a beat, eyes wide.

"That's something I could ask a friend for, right?" Thranduil finished, face impassive save for the amused twitch of his lips. Taking the offer for what it was, Bilbo grinned widely at his friend.

"Definitely!"

A/N: Woo plot point! Next up is the memorial chapter, so we'll see how poor Bilbo goes :P Again thanks so much for all the support, let me know what you thought xx


	14. The Flower Crown

The morning of the memorial was a cold one, grey cloud marring the bleak white of the sky with darkness, the sharp chill of the wind tousling Bilbo's half-heartedly brushed curls back from his forehead. The teenager squinted against the sting of it, cheeks and nose flushed pink with cold.

Beside him, Kili shifted uncomfortably in his seat shrugging further into the thin black material of the suit jacket Dis had forced him to wear, the brunet clearly glad for the extra layer now. Behind him, Bilbo knew, the rest of the student body were seated, small shuffling sounds and snippets of whispered conversation drifting over to the front row on the wind.

Two modest photo frames rested on a podium ahead of him, the dark colour of the platform a harsh contrast to the vibrant pink carnations clustered along it. If Bilbo concentrated, he thought he could catch the barest hint of their perfume before the scent was snatched up by the wind once more.

Elrond, clad in a simple black suit, rose to his feet and slowly crossed the damp grass, flecks of green clinging to his shoes. As he walked up to the podium, the students murmurs began to die down in response until the only backdrop to the sombre event was the brush of fabric as wayward ties and coats flapped in the breeze. Coming to a stop at the top of the podium, Elrond's grey gaze swept over the group, pausing briefly on Bilbo before searching the sea of students. Bilbo shivered, though he suspected it had nothing to do with the cold.

His chest felt oddly empty, as if the hours he'd spent tossing and turning the night before had taken more than his last reserves of energy, plagued as he was with twisted nightmares. Gardening with his mother, her smile wide and the warmth of the sun against his skin would suddenly warp, until the sky was dark and the earth hard beneath him, Belladonna's eyes wide and unseeing from where she had crumpled.

A warm hand on his shoulder drew Bilbo from the memory with a start. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Bilbo offered a small tight smile to Thorin beside him, the expression coming out as more of a grimace.

Turning back to face the front, Bilbo's tired mind replaced wide, vacant emerald eyes with unseeing cobalt blue, until it was Thorin lying pale and unmoving against the dirt of his dream. Smothering the swell of panic, Bilbo fisted a white knuckled hand in the material of Thorin's coat, gaze fixed straight ahead. He felt the tell-tale weight of Thorin's stare for a second, before a larger hand slowly pried his fingers from the fabric.

Rather than push Bilbo's hand away, Thorin grasped it firmly.

"We are here today to honour the memory of Vili Durin and Belladonna Baggins," Elrond began, voice crisp and clear despite the faint crackle of the small microphone. "To pay our respects and stand by the loved ones they leave behind in this difficult time. And though Belladonna may not have been a member of our Gifted family, we will farewell her as such," Elrond paused as the low hum of murmurs picked up again, several students looking confused at one another.

Thorin gave Bilbo's hand a soft squeeze.

"The courage of Vili and Belladonna will not be forgotten, their determination and strength of character a beacon during darker times," Elrond continued, voice fading away to a steady baritone at the back of Bilbo's mind.

Were it not for Thorin's warm hand keeping him grounded, Bilbo had the fleeting fear he might float away. He felt almost ethereal, as if he were watching a scene from someone else's life and simply going through the motions like a marionette doll, manipulated by strings he couldn't see. Absently, Bilbo raised his free hand to rub at his chest.

"…to pay our respects, and to-"

Bilbo leaned forward slightly, glancing down the front row as he did so. Fili sat on Kili's other side, blonde strands coming loose from his once neat ponytail in the breeze. He looked as sombre as Bilbo could ever remember seeing him, eyes tired and mouth drawn down in a frown. Beside Fili, Dis stared up at the podium, face blank and head held high. Frerin and Gandalf were next, the former rubbing a hand on his sister's shoulder comfortingly.

Beside Gandalf sat an empty chair.

_Where is he?_

Bilbo shifted in his seat, glancing around as subtly as possible. No matter how hard he strained, the teen couldn't see Bungo anywhere. A sinking feeling left the pit of his stomach cold and unsettled with anxiety.

_He wouldn't miss this, surely._

Something must have shown on his face, because a moment later Thorin nudged Bilbo with his shoulder, giving their joined hands a small tug.

"Over there," he whispered, and Bilbo followed the line of his gaze with some cross between relief and confusion.

Face pale and carefully blank, Bungo strode across the crisp lawn between the first row of seats and the podium, the collar of his black coat flipped up against the wind. From his place beside Thorin, Bilbo could just notice the tell-tale smudge of damp colour on the knees of his pants, evidence the man had been kneeling on the ground. Bilbo frowned slightly, eyebrows creasing in thought as the stain seemed utterly at odds with what he knew of his father. Bungo had always been an excellent example of the perfect Baggins- clean, presentable, never a hair out of place.

Respectable.

_Boring. _

Bilbo blinked in surprise at the rebellious thought, but couldn't bring himself to regret it. Before the academy, Bilbo had always felt he was more Baggins than Took, reserved and polite. He always kept his head down, always made sure not to make a scene or turn too many heads. And yet…

Glancing briefly at the brunet beside him, a warm feeling unfolded in his chest. No, since the academy he hadn't been a good Baggins at all.

Maybe he was more Took after all.

With a nod to Gandalf, Bungo sat stiffly in his seat, back ramrod straight. A flash of pink caught Bilbo's eye from within the folds of the elder Baggins' coat, crumpled petals vivid against the black material. Face softening, Bilbo allowed himself to lean back into the cold plastic of his chair.

His insides still felt jagged, as if that small part of himself that had been in blissful denial had been forcibly ripped out. Something told him he would always feel that way, at least a little. Bringing his spare hand up to his chest once more, Bilbo swallowed roughly.

_The sun was warm on the back of his neck, the heat a pleasant comfort as he knelt in the soft soil. A breeze danced through the white flowers that surrounded them, the daisies swaying gently, their petals tickling his palm as he held out a small hand. _

_In front of him soft, pale hands deftly wove green stems together, the movement as fast as it was gentle. Bilbo frowned down at his own clumped knots, the joins looking far more haphazard and shoddy than the delicate weaves in front of him. Beside him, Bungo frowned down at his own modest pile of daisies, the small stems snapped and bent._

"_What is the point of this, exactly?"_

_Bungo huffed as his only answer was a sweet tinkling of laughter, the sound not unlike the peals of a bell. Bilbo smiled in response to the noise, attention waning from the incomplete daisy crown in his lap to his mother's wide smile._

"_Isn't it obvious?" Belladonna asked, winking cheekily to her son. _

_Bungo sighed, shaking his head. "I fail to see how sitting out in the garden- on the _ground_ might I add- could be anything more than pointless-"_

"_Exactly!"_

_Bungo blinked, staring at his wife's face as if she were mad. Bilbo couldn't help a small giggle at the confused scowl on his father's face. _

_With a smile, Belladonna brushed her hands off the front of her pale green summer dress, the sun momentarily blurring out her figure as she rose to her feet. Blinking against the suddenly harsh light, Bungo could only raise a hand warily as he felt the light weight of something resting atop his head._

"_The point is there is no point- you don't need a reason for flower crowns," she chastened softly, placing an identical one on Bilbo's own curls with a wide smile, "stop being such a Baggins!"_

_Bungo stared up at her then with such a look of wonder and emotion that Bilbo had always remembered the moment, Belladonna blushing prettily as she hurriedly turned back to her son. He hadn't understood what it was at the time, the awe and warmth that only his mother could bring to his father's eyes._

_Love, _he decided, _it was love._

Slowly the memorial drew to a close as the wind grew colder and the dark sky threatened to open up above them. With a parting farewell and final nod to the two families in the front row, Elrond stepped down from the podium. Almost on cue weak rain began to fall, the droplets small but like ice as they struck at exposed skin. Behind him, Bilbo could hear the clang and loud murmurs as the rest of the student body scrambled to get inside, plastic chairs scraping against each other and the soft rustles of umbrellas being opened.

Ignoring his own rapidly dampening jacket, Bilbo rose to his feet, slowly walking up to the podium through the soggy grass. Towards the back of the platform, he could hear someone beginning to pack things up, the sharp metallic clack of collapsible chairs fading into the background noise.

Shaking, he brushed pale fingertips against the rain flecked image of his mother, her smile wide as the sunlight behind her made a halo of her bright auburn curls, the glowing strands cradling the curve of her face as she looked at something behind the camera. Grasping the thin stem of the nearest carnation, Bilbo gently tucked the flower into the corner of the dull wooden frame.

"I remember the day that was taken."

Not bothering to lift his head, Bilbo felt the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Oh?" Bilbo replied dully, the ache in his chest starting anew. He felt rather than saw his father nod beside him, the hand on his shoulder squeezing lightly.

"She was looking at you."

Unable to help himself, Bilbo twisted his head up to stare at the other man in surprise, though Bungo's eyes were fixed down, refusing to meet his own. Bending slightly, his father retrieved the handful of flowers from his jacket, frowning as he slowly placed the bundle into Bilbo's hands.

It was lopsided, the knots messy and uneven, but resting in Bilbo's shaking hands was undoubtedly a flower crown.

All at once it was as if a dam had released in Bilbo's chest, something giving way as he fell into his father's arms with a broken sob, Bungo catching him and clutching Bilbo to his chest.

"Shhh, I know, it'll be ok," Bungo murmured into his hair, repeating the words as if by doing so they would become true, hand smoothing down his back in soothing circles.

Bilbo sobbed, his heart all but breaking completely.

He didn't know how long the two of them stood out in the rain. He didn't know how many times Bungo whispered into his hair, or how many tears he shed. He didn't know how to make the pain go away, if it ever would. There was only one thing Bilbo knew for certain in that moment, the truth as clear to him as the image of his mother clasped tightly in his grasp.

Bungo needed his son just as much as Bilbo needed his father.

And if Bungo's voice grew hoarse, baritone breaking as his grip tightened around the teen in his arms, Bilbo didn't say anything.

/

Bilbo shuddered as he stepped under the shelter of the schools halls, the stone archway above him providing the sodden teen with a temporary reprieve from what was quickly becoming a full blown storm outside. The distant roll of thunder echoed around the marble, and Bilbo huddled further into his drenched coat, his body shivering violently with cold.

"You should probably take that off," a deep voice called softly, heavy footfalls almost completely masked by the dull roar of the wind and rain.

Despite feeling an odd sense of emptiness, Bilbo couldn't help the weak smile that curled his lips as Thorin stepped out from behind a pillar, boot scuffing the ground in a now familiar motion.

"I probably should," Bilbo tiredly agreed, not making any move to do so. Frowning at this, Thorin shook his head, striding purposefully up to the smaller teen. Bilbo shivered as the brunet froze in front of him, hands poised just centimetres from the buttons of his suit, as if asking for permission.

Nodding wearily, Bilbo couldn't help but feel thankful he was so emotionally drained, as he was certain he would be blushing impressively by now. With a surprising amount of gentleness, Thorin undid each button swiftly, sliding the soaked coat from Bilbo's shoulders carefully. Undoing his own long coat with practised ease, Thorin placed the thick material over Bilbo's shaking frame, dwarfing the auburn haired boy within easily.

Bilbo tried hard not to concentrate on how warm the coat was, the residual heat of its previous occupant leaving a tingle down his spine. The collar carried the sharp scent of freshly turned earth, which he supposed made sense, and something he couldn't quite put his finger on, something completely Thorin.

The brunet in question scooped the soaked black coat up from the ground, folding it over his arm. Ignoring the droplets of water, he turned to Bilbo with an expectant look. Running a hand through his wet curls tiredly, Bilbo just stared at him blankly.

Rolling his eyes, Thorin placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and began steering him down the corridor, a trail of water following behind the pair. The wet slap of shoes on marble echoed in their wake, breaking the usual silence of the school hallways.

As numb as he was, Bilbo couldn't help the weak jolt when he realised Thorin hadn't lowered his hand.

"Where's your father?" Thorin asked after a while, and Bilbo shrugged.

"Making final arrangements I suppose. He's leaving this afternoon."

Thorin nodded, hand trailing along the cool marble wall beside them absently. Bilbo wondered vaguely if it was a comfort thing, and figured maybe he'd have to ask one day.

It wasn't long before the pair came upon the stairwell leading to Beta dorm, and Thorin slid his hand from its place on Bilbo's shoulder, the latter already missing the small weight. Awkwardly, Thorin held Bilbo's jacket out to him, shuffling his feet slightly once the other boy had taken it.

"Are you ok?" Thorin flinched immediately after the question, "-wait! Of course you're not ok, I didn't mean- I just-" he broke off with a frustrated huff, and Bilbo gave him a tiny smile.

"Really, it's ok. Honestly," he added at the other's disbelieving expression. "I think…I think I knew all along, you know? I just didn't want to deal with it. She is…was…sort of the glue that held us together," Bilbo trailed off, eyes a little bright as he stared at a point behind Thorin's shoulder.

Before Thorin had the chance to say anything, Bilbo took a deep breath and flashed him a weak smile.

"I feel like I spend all my time thanking you," he said, gesturing vaguely to the oversized coat. As he made a move to take it off, Thorin shook his head.

"Keep it, at least for now," he added, shrugging. "You look like you could use some rest, maybe you should get some sleep? It's not like there are any classes for you today," he reasoned, and Bilbo found himself nodding in agreement.

"Probably a good idea."

"I do have them, you know," Thorin said teasingly, and Bilbo felt his lips quirk up slightly.

"Careful, I'm not sure you should use your yearly one on me," he warned, and Thorin shook his head, grinning lightly. Bilbo stifled a yawn, turning toward the stairs.

"I'll see you in a few hours then," Thorin said with a chuckle, turning on his heel to head further down the hall. Bilbo waved lazily back, running a hand through his curls wearily.

Walking through the dorm and ignoring the pitying glances his Beta roommates shot towards him, Bilbo fell facedown onto his bed, shoes and all.

He was asleep in seconds.

/

_He didn't need to open his eyes to know he was in the Shire. The scent of flowers and freshly turned earth invaded his senses, and he breathed it in, feeling his worries slipping away. He knew he had been upset but he could not remember why._

_Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought entirely. _

_Opening his eyes, he smiled widely at the sight of rolling green hills and fields, a bed of flowers swaying gently at his feet. A small cobbled path lay to his right, the smooth stones twisting their way ahead of him. In the distance, if he squinted, he thought he could make out a familiar green door._

_The earth was soft beneath his bare feet. Feeling an odd wariness in his chest, Bilbo was careful not to step on any flower stems as he crossed over to the path. The stone was warm but not unpleasantly so, and slowly he made his way forward._

_It was odd, he reflected. Normally the Shire was bustling, men and women working outside in the garden or the fields as young children ran among the hills and paths, shrieking with laughter in small groups. _

_The silence was loud, in its own way._ _Deafening._

_The back of his neck prickled, and he swung around wildly, his heart beating faster and erratically. Only the empty fields and stone path continued behind him, winding its way out of sight. Something tightened in the pit of his stomach, and Bilbo twisted back around, walking slightly faster._

_Where the stones beneath his feet had been warm a moment ago now they were cold, the chill shooting up his toes and leaving his legs aching with it. The round green door of Bag End lay ahead of him, just over the next hill. He was close, so close-_

_A warm breath ghosted across the back of his neck, and Bilbo threw himself forward in a run._

_His chest tightened in terror, the fields on either side of him beginning to turn brown as the grass began to rapidly die. His breath came out in terrified puffs and his heart hammered wildly in his chest. The sound of his blood rushing in his ears and the soft thudding of his feet against the path pounded in tandem._

_The sound of a second pair of footfalls echoed behind him, rapidly gaining._

_Vaulting over the low garden wall of Bag End, Bilbo tore up the path, throwing himself toward the round green door. A harsh thud sounded behind him, and Bilbo flung out a hand, fingers millimetres away from the brass knob…_

_A hand grabbed his other wrist roughly and ripped him back at the same time a blue rune flashed onto the door. Nails dug into his wrist as he cried out, twisting to press a hand against the green wood._

_The rune flashed a blinding blue, drowning everything in his sight. A harsh scream sounded behind him, and Bilbo gasped as a shadow was flung from him, its darkness stark against the brilliant blue before flickering away. A dull roaring sounded in his ears, and Bilbo had a second to think how familiar the blue was before-_

Gasping, Bilbo bolted upright in bed, his heart racing.

Hands shaking, he focused on trying to breathe, his chest tight and his lungs burning. He opened his eyes hesitantly, staring down at his lap as he took deep rasping breaths. When his vision stopped trying to darken and his lungs began to cooperate, Bilbo scrubbed a shaking hand over his face.

"What…what the hell was _that_?" he whispered, voice hitching halfway. Looking up, he felt his stomach plummet once more.

The room ebbed and flowed in blue.

Shaking his head, Bilbo's eyes widened. His heart ratcheted up in speed and his breaths began to quicken again. The empty dorm room was silent and still, unnaturally so, reminding him forcibly of the dream he had been trapped in.

Closing his eyes, Bilbo forced himself to calm down, shoving all thoughts of sharp nails and warm breaths away. He didn't want to be here.

After what felt like an eternity his shaking began to still. Opening his eyes, Bilbo sighed at the grey that swam around him. The dorm was still empty, but not unnaturally so, and he revelled in the feeling for a moment.

_This is what my gift is, _Bilbo assured himself. _I go invisible- that's it. Nothing more, nothing less._

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Bilbo grimaced at the dampness, cold sweat covering his brow. Flickering back into existence, the room sharpened into focus, the grey morphing into clear colour.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Bilbo sighed and rested his elbows on his thighs, hands cradling his chin. No doubt the nightmare had been the product of stress and emotional vulnerability. Straightening, he looked down at his hands and promptly froze.

Angry red lines covered the wrist of his left hand, the nail marks harsh against his pale skin.


	15. The Tournament

**Woo new chapter!**

**Also I'm in the stages of editing the other chapters, so ch 1 has been revised (hopefully for the better, I think) if you wanted to check it out.**

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Bilbo made his way up the Beta dorm stairs sluggishly. It had been two days since the memorial, two days since he had said goodbye to his father at the train platform, the air still a little awkward despite what had passed between them.

Two days since…

Tugging his sleeve down warily, Bilbo frowned.

_Out of sight, out of mind,_ he repeated to himself, the line becoming a personal mantra of sorts. He knew he should see someone about it, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach always seemed to hold him back. He didn't want to be different, didn't want to be a freak. Not again.

Not after the Shire.

Two identical grins met him once he reached the top of the stairs, startling Bilbo out of his reverie.

"Morning Boggins!" Fili and Kili said in tandem.

"Good morning," he replied carefully, staring at the two suspiciously. If anything, their grins widened, and Bilbo suppressed the urge to shiver.

"So, we were thinking," Kili began.

"Since we were so graciously given the time to do so," Fili cut in.

"What's another day, in the grand scheme of things?" Kili finished, wiggling his brows in a way that sent warning bells off in Bilbo's head.

"We're going back to classes today…aren't we?" he asked cautiously. Fili shook his head with a small _tsk._

"Why on earth would we do that when we could go to Uncle Frerin's instead?" Fili asked incredulously.

"Just think of the mental benefits, Boggins!" Kili piped up.

"Fresh forest air-"

"Sunlight-"

"Tranquillity-"

"That funny pine smell-"

Bilbo rolled his eyes at the two, huffing slightly.

"We really _should _go back to classes, it's been two days…" he trailed off, trying to ignore the baleful stares the pair fixed on him. Kili looked like a kicked puppy, while Fili's bottom lip stuck out a little in a pout. Making an irritated sound, Bilbo began walking down the hall.

"Screw it, let's go."

Behind him, he missed the incredulous looks Kili and Fili shot each other, before the twins jogged up to him, one on either side.

"Really?"

"Are you sure?"

Bilbo sighed, wondering what had happened to his Baggins sensibilities. His father would have a heart attack if he knew, and the thought sent a small wave of amusement through him.

"Yes, I really don't think one more day will make much of a difference. I'm sure Ori or Bofur can fill me in on what I missed out on."

The twins each looped an arm through Bilbo's, taking him by surprise.

"You know, Boggins," Kili started.

"We just might be rubbing off on you," Fili said brightly.

"Do you two practice that, or is it a twin thing?"

The two glanced at each other for a moment, before shrugging.

"What thing?" they asked in unison and Bilbo shook his head with a small smile.

/

The walk through the woods was peaceful, the trees seeming far less bleak and creepy today than they had the last time Bilbo had passed through.

Of course, that could be in part to the almost continuous chatter on either side of him.

"Do you think there are squirrels here?" Kili asked, tilting his head back to look into the trees, squinting slightly against the sunlight filtering through.

"Probably," Fili answered, glancing around as well.

"If I were a squirrel, I'd totally wanna live here," Kili continued.

"I don't really see any nuts, though…"

"Do squirrels eat nuts?"

There was a pause, as both seemed to think about this.

"…I think so?" Fili said slowly, "What else would they eat?"

"I dunno…bugs and stuff?"

"Well…maybe they do? It would make sense, I guess."

Kili nodded sagely.

Bilbo didn't bother pointing out there were no squirrels in the forest, or any forest in the Rivendell area for that matter. Instead, he sighed to himself as the pair began to study the surrounding branches and tree litter.

_At least they're quiet now,_ he thought to himself gratefully, feeling guilty almost immediately after.

The past two days Kili and Fili had been far more reserved than usual, their smiles barely reaching their eyes. Thorin had been worried, Bilbo knew, as the pair had taken to staying in the Alpha dorm instead of roaming around the school as they usually did. The news about Vili had hit them hard, Kili particularly.

Bilbo thought briefly of the scene in the corridor, Kili fighting tears as Fili chased after him.

No, seeing the two enthusiastically searching for non-existent squirrels and skipping class was actually a relief.

"Found one!" Kili cried excitedly, and even Bilbo twisted around in surprise.

"A squirrel?!" Fili cried excitedly, running over to the brunet.

"No, a nut. See?" Kili held something up to his brother, who nodded excitedly.

"Prime squirrel habitat," Fili muttered, and the two glanced above them again.

Bilbo shook his head.

"What kind of nut do you think this is?" Fili asked, and Kili shrugged.

"Not sure. Let's eat it and find out," he said brightly, but Fili shook his head.

"No, wait! What if it's poisonous?"

"What? No! Why would it be poisonous?"

"Why _wouldn't _it be poisonous?" Fili shot back, and Kili huffed.

"If squirrels can eat it, we can eat it."

"That's stupid-"

"_You're _stupid-"

"We don't even know what kind of nut it is, why would we eat it?"

There was a pause, and both jogged over to Bilbo.

"Boggins!" Kili cried, and Bilbo fought to keep the exasperation off his face.

"Bilbo, tell Kili the nut is poisonous-"

"It's _not _poisonous-"

"But it _could _be-"

"The nut is a rock," Bilbo interrupted flatly.

There was a moment of silence, before the pair started bickering again.

"Well _obviously _it's a rock, jeez Kili," Fili said exasperatedly.

"_You _thought it was a nut too!"

Fili sighed, shaking his head and turning to Bilbo.

"Do you see what I have to put up with? The burden of being the older sibling…"

"By like, five minutes!" Kili screeched indignantly, and Bilbo winced at the volume.

Fili opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by a deeper voice.

"Bilbo! I see you brought the monkeys to settle the debt!" Frerin called brightly, standing on the edge of the tree line.

The three teens groaned as one as each of them remembered the wager with Frerin, and their subsequent losses.

_Never hustle a hustler,_ the blonde had said, and Bilbo scowled.

"But Uncle!" Fili and Kili whined, but Frerin shook his head at them.

"Is now a good time to remind you the three of you should be in class?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. Without a word, Fili and Kili jogged over to the cabin, calling back something about cleaning out the gutters.

Smirking to himself, Frerin clasped Bilbo's shoulder and led him towards the dilapidated structure.

By now, both Fili and Kili had made their way onto the top of the cabin, the former throwing leaves out of the gutter and the latter studying the rest of the roof.

"Bit of advice for you, young caterpillar," Frerin murmured, and Bilbo glanced at him curiously. "When you're fighting a bully, don't hold back. Hit fast and hit low."

Dread settled like a lead weight in Bilbo's stomach, and Frerin fixed him with a knowing look.

"I…" Bilbo began, but soon trailed off. What could he say to that?

A sharp banging sounded from the roof, and from the corner of his eye, Bilbo could see Kili wielding a hammer somewhat wildly.

"Don't worry; I haven't told anyone. But you should probably know there's a video going around," Frerin added thoughtfully, and Bilbo felt himself pale slightly.

"There's…there's a _video_?" he whispered in horror, and Frerin nodded distractedly.

"Fili be careful with that nail gun!" he called out to the twins, a mechanic whirring his only answer. Turning back to Bilbo, he shrugged.

"I'd be more worried about technique if I were you- we're gonna have to get back into your training sessions sooner rather than later, I think. Especially since you seem to be such a rebel and all," he added teasingly, but Bilbo had frozen up.

Nausea bit at the back of his throat.

_There's a video..._

A hand gently shook his shoulder, and Bilbo looked up at Frerin dazedly.

"It's not the first time students have gotten into fights in the academy walls, and it definitely won't be the last. If anything I'd be more worried about a lacklustre performance, really," he assured, in what Bilbo assumed was meant to be a comforting way.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo nodded slowly.

"Yeah, yeah of course," he agreed, even as his chest tightened with worry.

Frerin opened his mouth to say something before the scream of a chainsaw sounded, and the blonde spun around to face the twins.

"Kili put the chainsaw down! At least wait until you get off the ladder!" he yelled, and Kili called back something unintelligible before the chainsaw stopped. Huffing to himself, Frerin turned to Bilbo.

"Just be more careful next time, got it? God knows what my brother will do once he sees it," he said with a sigh, and Bilbo's eyes widened.

_Oh shit._

"I mean, the way these things go around the school it's a wonder the rest of the faculty never seem to notice. Particularly when it's a weedy little first year against a hulking second year," Frerin continued, tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

Eyebrows jumping up, the blonde glanced down at his watch quickly, heaving a small sigh at the time. Turning once more, he called out to the twins.

"Oi! Thing 1 and 2, get your butts down here!"

"I thought we were fixing up your fixer upper?" Bilbo asked drily, thankful for the change in subject.

"Oh, don't worry, you will," he promised, and Bilbo frowned, "but as of about ten minutes ago there is an academy wide assembly we need to attend."

Bilbo flinched. The teachers may not notice, but Thorin and the others would definitely know the three were absent.

"Busted," Fili said with a sigh, and Bilbo started.

"How did you get down here so fast?!"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Boggins," Kili answered with a smirk. Frerin raised an eyebrow.

"Boggins?"

Bilbo rolled his eyes as Kili grinned proudly, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"Yup. It's our nickname for him, you know, since we're so close and all."

"Huh. I would've gone with Bilbro, but whatever," Frerin replied with a shrug, and Fili and Kili gaped at each other.

"How did we miss that?" Fili whispered, as Kili face-palmed.

Again, Bilbo shook his head.

_It's going to be a long day._

/

The assembly was dispersing as the four walked into the main hall, the echoing chatter of a sea of students bouncing off the marble. Glancing around, Bilbo noticed a large group clustered around something, all murmuring excitedly to each other. Tugging Fili and Kili along with him, Bilbo weaved through the mass of teens.

"Excuse me- sorry, could I just-?" he apologised, all but shoving his way past the throng.

"Oh snap!" Kili exclaimed behind him, head tilted back to look at something above them. Glancing up, Bilbo's eyes widened.

**Alpha and Beta pairings effective immediately:**

"Alpha and Beta pairings…for what?" Bilbo asked curiously, jumping as a deep voice answered from behind his shoulder.

"You would know had you been here."

Gulping slightly, Bilbo twisted around to see an unimpressed Thorin.

"Ah…yes, about that…" he began, as Thorin continued to glare.

"We were spending time with Uncle Frerin!" Kili jumped in, realising perhaps this was not the best response as both of Thorin's eyebrows snapped down.

"You were at _Frerin's?_" he growled, and both Bilbo and Kili winced.

Whatever sharp chastening that was sure to follow was interrupted by Fili, who swore loudly and colourfully before grabbing Kili. Thorin and Bilbo stared at the two in surprise, as they appeared to be clutching each other tightly.

"I can't believe they would do that-"

"It's inhumane-"

"-And cruel-"

"-And horrible-"

"What…?" Bilbo murmured, and Thorin sighed.

"Alpha and Beta students are now being paired up to compete in matches, instead of it being mainly Alpha. Something about improving inter-house rivalry?"

"And so the twins have been split up," Bilbo realised, glancing at the two in sympathy. Thorin merely nodded, eyes narrowed up at the board.

"Bilbo!" Bofur called from behind Thorin, the older teen helping to tug him through to the front of the crowd with them.

Taking a moment to breathe, Bofur pointed to the board above them.

"Are you going to be entering the tournament?" he asked quickly, bright grin on his face.

Before Bilbo could answer, Thorin shook his head.

"No, he doesn't need to enter if he doesn't want to. Tournaments can be dangerous."

Bilbo glared, annoyance flaring up in his chest. Unseen by either, Bofur stifled an amused smile.

"How would you know if I don't want to enter?" he asked irritably, and Thorin raised his eyebrows.

"I had assumed you had your wits about you, clearly I was mistaken though," he grumbled, and Bilbo glared.

"So you think I'm stupid?!"

"Well clearly you're not thinking straight!" Thorin said hotly, and Bilbo's eyes widened.

"Is this because of earlier?"

"It's _Frerin!_"

"Are you serious? What does Frerin have to do with me entering a tournament?"

"He's a bad influence, and he has a habit of manipulating people. You have no idea." Thorin growled, eyes darkening in anger. Bilbo clenched his own fists.

"That still doesn't give you the right to decide if something is or isn't too dangerous for me-"

"Bilbo, it's a _tournament-_"

"So you think I wouldn't be able to take it?"

Thorin gave him a sceptical look, and Bilbo gritted his teeth.

"Sign me up,"he growled, and Thorin looked completely taken aback.

"But-"

"_Sign .Me. Up._"

"Will do!" Bofur chirped, squeezing through the crowd to the sign-up sheet. Thorin stared at Bilbo, before huffing and crossing his arms.

"_Fine_, we'll sign up then!" he exclaimed, scowling darkly.

"Wait, what?" Bilbo asked, anger lost in his confusion. Thorin rolled his eyes irritably.

"You heard what I said-"

"You said _we_," Bilbo cut in.

"Well, you can't compete on your own," he scoffed.

"You mean…you and I are…?"

"…are paired up?" Thorin finished slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "Did you not look at the board?"

Turning away from the brunet abruptly, Bilbo shoved his way forward to the pairing board. Scanning down the list, he gaped at the small cursive.

_**Bilbo Baggins (Beta) &amp; Thorin Durin (Alpha)**_

Groaning, he scrubbed a hand over his face. What had he been thinking? Thorin could shift rocks ten times his size, make them into barriers or spears-

_And I turn invisible, probably. Oh my god what the hell was I thinking?!_

The clanging of the bell reverberated through the hall, and as one the students all began to make their way towards the dining hall for lunch. Still feeling equal parts prickly with Thorin, and nauseous at the thought of competing together, Bilbo sighed and allowed the crowd to push him to the hall.

It was awhile before he noticed, frowning down at his sneakers the whole way, but something wasn't right.

_People are staring at me_, he realised with a growing sense of anxiety, fingers gripping his lunch tray in a white knuckled grip.

A few students to his left were whispering together, and Bilbo knew exactly what they were muttering about. Swallowing down the rising sense of panic he felt, Bilbo walked as quickly as possible to their table, sinking into his seat with a sigh.

Thorin was still angry with him, and if he were to be honest, he was still quite annoyed with the older Durin himself. It wasn't as if he were some delicate flower, after all! He could still make decisions for himself, could still fight for himself-

"Bilbo are you alright? You look like you're about to snap your fork…" Ori said hesitantly, and Bilbo's head snapped up.

"Ah…sorry guess I was lost in thought," he replied, smiling weakly. Ori didn't push, simply gave a nod and a small smile before turning back to his lunch.

"Why are people staring at us?" Thorin asked bluntly, glaring at the table opposite whose occupants quickly turned away.

Bilbo sank a little in his seat.

"It must be 'cos we're so awesome," Kili chimed in, and Fili nodded. Nori snorted with laughter, spluttering and coughing into his juice.

Gloin, Bifur and Dwalin all looked at each other uneasily, and Thorin narrowed his eyes.

"Why do I get the feeling you're all hiding something?"

"Because you're paranoid?" Bofur asked cheerfully, stuffing half a sandwich in his mouth. Before Thorin could argue, Fili leaned over, whispering something into the brunet's ear.

Kili winked at Bilbo, who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Comprehension dawned on Thorin's face as he glanced at Bilbo for a second, expression quickly turning guilty. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his mostly empty lunch tray.

"I have something I need to do," he mumbled, eyes carefully avoiding Bilbo. Walking away, he tipped the remnants of his lunch into the bin and shoved the tray into the holder with a clatter, quickly walking out of the room.

"What on earth did you say to him?" Bilbo asked after a moment, and Fili rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"So…ok, maybe I played the funeral card," he admitted, and Bilbo frowned. Remembering Thorin's expression of guilt, he felt the first stirrings of guilt himself, despite his irritation with the older teen.

"Fili-" he began, but a gruff voice cut him off.

"Would it have been better if we told him the real reason people are staring at you?" Dwalin cut in firmly, and Bilbo bit his lip.

They knew his secret.

Each of the others gave him knowing looks, some concerned and others annoyed. He supposed he should probably go pack his bags or something after this, clearly everyone knew and were waiting to confront him about his Gift-

"I think I speak for everyone here when I say _what the_ _hell, _Bilbo?!" Dwalin continued, eyes hard and arms crossed. Bilbo flinched, staring down at the tabletop.

"I…I can explain," he lied weakly, but Gloin huffed.

"Why, of all the students in the school, did you have to pick a fight with _Bolg_?" he muttered incredulously, and several of the others murmured their assent.

Bilbo blinked in confusion.

_Wait, what?_

"Bilbo you could have gotten really injured," Ori added, staring at his friend in concern. Bifur made a series of hand gestures, though Bilbo couldn't tell if they were angry or merely enthusiastic.

"I still maintain it was impressive," Nori drawled, ignoring Dwalin's glare. "You all just saw the video- I saw the whole thing, and let me tell you-"

"You were there but didn't think to stop him?!" Bofur snapped, and Nori broke off abruptly.

This time, it wasn't just Bilbo who was staring in surprise.

"Well…ok, maybe I could have intervened, but-"

"Things could have gone very differently," Bofur cut in grimly, and Bilbo felt a shiver down his spine.

He had to remind himself Bofur's Gift was intuition, not premonition, but there were times the two almost seemed the same. Bofur _always_ knew more than he let on.

The fact he was upset about this spoke volumes.

No one said anything for a moment, and Bofur frowned down at his food, one hand straightening his overly large hat. Bifur made several hand signs in a flurry of movement, and his cousin sighed.

"Just be glad Uncle is useless with technology," Kili piped up.

"God, if Uncle Thorin saw what Bolg did to you-" Fili began, trailing off in a shudder.

"That said though, just give us the word an' we'll kick his ass," Dwalin growled, as the others swiftly agreed.

"I'd really rather forget the whole thing," Bilbo mumbled sheepishly, colour flooding his cheeks. Several of his friends looked ready to argue the point, though thankfully they didn't say anything. "It wasn't exactly the best idea I've ever had," he finished, smiling a little self-deprecatingly.

"Just be a little less gung ho next time, eh?" Nori suggested, and Dwalin snorted.

Gloin ruffled his hair and Ori nudged his shoulder as he continued eating his lunch, the others shooting him fond smiles. A warm feeling unfolded in his chest, as he looked at each of them in turn.

They really wouldn't abandon him, he thought suddenly. The only thing they wanted from Bilbo was his friendship, nothing more and nothing less.

They didn't care if he couldn't fight.

They didn't care if he wasted their time, or made them worry.

They didn't care if he came from a non-gifted family, or if he was a freak.

The only thing they cared about was _him_.

The realisation shocked him, and Bilbo felt a prickling behind his eyes at the thought, the warmth in his chest threatening to burst as his heart made its way to his throat. Swallowing roughly, Bilbo hardened his resolve.

He would live up to their belief in him.

When Bilbo spoke, his breathing still wavered, voice barely above a whisper yet firm enough that each of his friends heard him clearly.

"Thank you."

**A/N:**

**I love Fili and Kili haha**

**Thanks for reading guys :) Let me know what you thought, and flick me a comment down the bottom. I love hearing from you guys, totally makes my day!**


	16. The Long Morning

_Bilbo sighed deeply, the warmth of the soil beneath him a soothing balm against his back. He could feel the brush of flower petals against his exposed arms, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and wrinkling terribly._

_His father would no doubt be horrified._

_Bilbo chuckled at that, opening his eyes and rolling onto his stomach, movements slow and languid. The green hills ahead of him stretched far into the distance, and if he concentrated enough, he thought he heard the soft bubble of a stream._

_Inhaling deeply, the scent of flowers and earth filled his senses, his heart feeling heavy with longing._

_Longing?_

_Rubbing his eyes, Bilbo sat up slowly._

_No, something was not right. He raked his mind for a moment, the sense of unease and foreboding increasing. Why would he long to be somewhere he already was; had been all his life?_

"_Because this isn't real," Bilbo said slowly, eyes widening as the green of the hills began to yellow and the flowers began to die._

_He'd been here before._

_Launching himself to his feet, Bilbo flung one foot ahead of the other to where he hoped the path lay. Already the warm summer air was chilling, his breath coming in sharp bursts of fog as he ran, the soft blades of grass now brittle and sharp against his bare feet._

_How long did he have this time?_

_The cobble stoned path rose to meet him as he crested the hill, and he released a breath in relief. Darting down Bagshot Row, he could already see the green door of Bag End, the strange blue rune glowing brightly. Glancing behind him, Bilbo thought he could see the hint of a shadow at the other end of the lane, the patch of darkness barely visible as the sky rapidly turned to grey._

_Vaulting over the low fence Bilbo darted forward, almost tripping for a horrifying moment before finding his balance and surging toward the door. Around him the wind picked up, working itself into a howling flurry. Slamming against the wood, the teen had a split second hesitation before his fingers grasped the cold metal of the handle, the gust roaring in his ears._

_There was an inhuman screech behind him as Bilbo flung open the door._

_Everything faded away as a pair of wide emerald eyes met his own. Bag End disappeared, the wind stopped and his surroundings snapped to dark blue. Frozen, Bilbo could only stare straight ahead as the world stopped._

_A lone tear slid down the youth's face, and Bilbo's eyes tracked the liquid as it descended a pale cheek. A small mouth opened and closed silently._

"_I…I know you," Bilbo forced out in a whisper, the silence of the room oppressive and smothering._

_Lips closing in a firm line, the child said nothing, eyes fixed on something over Bilbo's shoulder. Muscles feeling as stiff and heavy as lead, he ached to move, to see what the boy stared at so heart wrenchingly._

_Gritting his teeth, Bilbo slowly turned around, ignoring the growing pool of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. His hands shook and his breath caught as he twisted._

_He caught a glimpse of auburn before he was wrenched forward with a yell, the dark blue cracking and flaking into black. The child before him disappeared as the world seemed to close in on itself, crumbling and cracking until only a liquid black remained._

_Bilbo swallowed thickly and took a half step forward._

_The darkness surged up like a wave, silently bleeding across the room towards him. Bilbo hastily tried to backpedal but he was frozen, the inky black streaking forward impossibly fast._

_He couldn't run, something held him but he couldn't see-_

_And then he was looking at a familiar pair of wide emerald eyes, except where there should have been warmth there was an empty milkiness. The eyes flickered once, twice, before he was alone again._

_Cold dread seized his heart, like a vice around his chest until he couldn't gasp, he couldn't speak-_

_Until he was screaming as the darkness climbed up his legs, burning him with cold, smothering him and surging up into his mouth-_

_He couldn't breathe, he couldn't scream he couldn't-_

Lurching forwards with a gasp, Bilbo narrowly missed someone else's head as he dry-heaved over the side of the bed. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as his surroundings flicked rapidly between grey and coloured, his hands clutching the tangled sheets below him like a life line.

"Bilbo?" someone said softly, smoothing a hand over his back gently.

Bilbo couldn't bring himself to respond, the burning behind his eyelids barely held at bay. His hands shook and his breaths came in gasping sobs.

"Shh, it's okay, you're alright," the person whispered, hands making soothing circles against his back. It could have been minutes or hours, time lost to Bilbo as he focused his breathing enough to calm down.

Slowly, the room flicked back into colour.

"See, there ya go. That's better, isn't it?" the same voice murmured.

"At least now we can see him," another voice added to his left, and suddenly Bilbo found he could place the pair easily.

Swallowing thickly, it was a moment before he found the strength to raise his head, but once he did, he fixed Ori and Bofur with a tired stare.

"What…" he flinched at the rasp of his voice, his throat burning, "…what happened?"

The pair looked at each other for a moment in silent question before Bofur shrugged.

"You had another nightmare. We could…we could hear you screaming," Ori answered hesitantly, hand falling from Bilbo's back to twist nervously in his lap.

_Not again._

Ignoring the sinking sensation in his stomach, Bilbo took a deep breath, releasing it in a soft sigh.

"It's no trouble, Bilbo," Bofur said softly, but firmly. "Really. Nothin' wrong with nightmares, I used to get them all the time after…well, you know," he trailed off, fingers tracing the edges of his battered hat. "Found that after the accident, bein' asleep could be worse than bein' awake, at times."

Bilbo nodded mutely.

Bofur's parents had been killed when he was ten in a mining accident. The cave in had taken everybody by surprise, the only survivor Bofur's cousin, Bifur. The damage done to his head had been irreversible, the boy only able to speak in sign language. A 'medical wonder' the doctors had called him, the axe still lodged in his forehead and unable to be removed without serious consequences. Bofur was just glad to have his cousin alive.

It was no wonder the boy rarely took off his father's hat, after all that.

"You know we don't mind Bilbo; we're just worried about you," Ori murmured, "this is the fourth night in a row, surely you remember something?"

"Not really, no," Bilbo lied, quashing the small twist of guilt in his chest.

"Oh, that's a shame…"

There was a moment of silence, and Bilbo twisted his hands in his lap.

"Thanks…and I'm sorry, all the same," he said quietly, biting his lip. He hated being a burden and worrying his friends. Bofur swatted him lightly over the head, and Bilbo's lips curled up into a small smile at the gesture.

"Didn't we already go over this? Now come on; it's early, but breakfast should be starting soon anyway," Bofur finished, grinning easily and moving to his own bunk to rifle through his clothes.

"Yeah, sounds good," Bilbo agreed, shooting Ori a small smile as the other teen hesitated before getting ready too.

The things on the bedside table rattled faintly, and Bilbo paused with a frown. The ground vibrated slightly beneath his bare feet, a barely noticeable tremble in the marble.

Before he could ask the others, the shaking had already stopped, his small collection of pens and notebook no longer moving.

With a shrug, Bilbo chalked it up to another day in a school for the Gifted.

_What a start to the day…_he thought tiredly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. _Things can really only go up from here, can't they?_

/

Thorin breathed in the crisp morning air deeply, his lungs already starting to burn a little at the exercise. Around him the grounds were blessedly empty as the first blinding rays of sunrise made him squint, the glow reflecting off the dew covered lawns beside him. The soft thud of his sneakers on the trail below felt like a soothing balm to his tangled emotions, the rhythmic beat against the concrete rippling across his senses like a second heartbeat.

Bilbo.

It seemed the other boy was always on his mind in some way or other, and Thorin bit back a rueful grin at that. Never in his sixteen years had he ever met someone so…_confusing._ Each time he thought he had the auburn haired teen figured out, Bilbo pulled the proverbial rug right out from under his feet making him fall flat on his ass again.

"_Sign me up!"_ Bilbo's words came back to him, and Thorin shook his head to himself.

Did he _want_ to get himself injured? He knew the younger teen had a selfless streak, but that didn't mean Thorin had to be happy about it, especially if he was putting himself in harms way for Thorin's sake. It wasn't that Bilbo couldn't do it, the beta had a sharp mind and decent hand to hand skills, not to mention his invisibility.

It was that he shouldn't have to.

The looming bulk of the academy blocked out the morning sun as he jogged closer, the temperature dropping sharply in the absence of its warmth. Coming to a stop beside the outer bathrooms, Thorin rested his hands against his knees and breathed deeply for a moment. Brushing a hand through sweat dampened locks, he scrunched his nose up at the feeling.

The bathroom was deserted, as it was every morning, and Thorin quickly threw his tracksuit pants and shirt into a locker before stepping under the hot spray of a shower. He heard his phone give a cheerful _ding_ but ignored it in favour of resting his head against the shower wall, his eyes drifting closed.

Thorin had always needed time to himself, even as a young boy. Living in a family of such extroverted and loud people he had always craved silence in a way Dis, Frerin and the twins had never understood- he loved his family fiercely, but it had never escaped his notice that he was the odd one out. It wasn't a bad thing, it just was.

He needed his morning jog to piece himself together for the day, to sort through his thoughts and make sense of whatever troubled him. It felt good to be able to let go, to run with the ground humming beneath his feet.

It felt a lot like freedom, he supposed.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Thorin opened his eyes and turned the shower off, ignoring the chill of the water on his skin. Snagging a towel, the brunet quickly dried and changed into his uniform, frowning at the creases in the white shirt. Lacing up his shoes, Thorin patted his pocket absently as his phone gave another persistent _ding. _

Frowning, he tugged the device free from his tracksuit pocket and clicked the home button, the screen coming to life.

_**7.01 am**_

_**(1 new message)**_

Raising a brow, Thorin swiped the screen with his thumb, intrigued despite himself. The others were no doubt getting ready for breakfast by now, so why would they bother texting?

_**Unknown number**_

Unknown number and a video?

"Please don't be something weird," he muttered to himself, clicking play.

The screen shook and blurred for a moment before sharpening, the only thing visible the backs of student's heads. The camera holder pushed their way through the throng, phone held high in the air. Thorin squinted, trying to make out what he was supposed to be seeing. The camera blurred again before sharpening on two figures, one of which towered over the other.

Thorin rolled his eyes; clearly Bolg was as much of a jackass as his brother then. But why would someone send-

The camera zoomed in on the shorter student and Thorin felt his breath leave him in a rush.

"Bilbo…?"

All other thoughts stilled as the fight broke out.

Thorin watched the video until the end, screen eventually fading to black. White knuckled fingers slowly released the phone, shoving the device deep into his pocket. Thorin breathed in harshly through his nose, teeth grit together painfully.

The ground shook beneath his feet as his vision seemed to almost white out with the force of his rage.

His fist slammed into the open door of the locker, buckling the metal harshly. The stinging pain dancing across his knuckles helped to ground him, and gathering the tattered ends of his control Thorin stilled the tremors no doubt reverberating across the academy.

Taking a deep breath, Thorin attempted to gather himself.

The hall. He needed to go to breakfast so no one would suspect anything.

Mechanically, Thorin put one foot ahead of the other.

Bolg was going to regret that.

Immensely.

/

Things did not go up at all.

In fact, if Bilbo were asked, he would say things really just went further downhill, if at all possible.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. For one thing, most of the gossip and buzz of excitement that followed him seemed to have calmed down, no doubt something new and scandalous having caught everyone's attention.

For another, Thorin wouldn't talk to him.

Well it wasn't that he wouldn't talk to him, Bilbo reflected, it was probably closer to say Thorin wouldn't talk to anybody. The older teen was showing a rare streak of passive aggression, something most of the others had completely thought him incapable until now. Bilbo included.

"Mornin'," Dwalin grunted, pointedly elbowing Thorin beside him.

"Good morning," the Durin muttered automatically, not bothering to look up from the staring contest he held with the glass of orange juice in front of him.

Thorin looked pale and tense, muscle occasionally ticking in his jaw and Bilbo had the fleeting thought to ask if he was sick.

Instead, Bilbo simply nodded, poking around his porridge despondently with a silver spoon. His stomach roiled and nausea left him with little appetite, just as it had done for the last few days. He felt tired, like a towel wrung out to dry one too many times, the fabric brittle and dull.

_Well that's depressing…_

Straightening in his seat, Bilbo forced himself to eat as much of the luke-warm oats as he could bear. It was probably a mixture of restless sleep and stress, he guessed, and since there wasn't much he could do on either front he might as well have a decent meal.

The rest of the day wasn't much better, and Bilbo smothered a yawn as he gathered up his history books. The bell clanged loudly, the sound magnified by the high marble walls, and Bilbo felt thankful it was the last class of the day.

"Don't forget to have that paper to me by the end of the week!" Professor Balin attempted to remind them, as the group of first years all but ran out the door. Bilbo felt a surge of sympathy for the teacher- history really wasn't _that _bad.

Although, considering he was fresh to Gifted society, most of the battles and coups they spoke of were new to him too. Not for the first time he felt a wave of disappointment that the two societies were so divided.

_We could learn so much from each other…_

His mind strayed to the tense political situation. In the handful of months he had been attending the academy, things outside its doors had not been improving. It seemed there was an incident almost weekly between the Gifted and Non-gifted, both populations equally paranoid with one another, different groups fostering hate and suspicion. The seeds of doubt had been sown and it was only a matter of time before something terrible happened.

It was enough to make him feel sick.

A gentle nudge to his shoulder brought him out of his maudlin thoughts, and Bilbo blinked in surprise at Ori.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Ori shook his head with a small smile. "Someone needed to get you out of your own head, is all. You've been there more and more lately."

"Ah, sorry about that," Bilbo mumbled sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Ori shook his head.

"Don't be sorry. I uh, I know the feeling…" he trailed off.

Bilbo felt a pang of remorse as he realised that Ori had seemed troubled for a while now, but between arguing with Thorin, training and his bizarre dreams, Bilbo hadn't had the chance to actually be there for his friend.

His mind briefly wandered back to Ori's last drawing. There had been something…something almost familiar about it, incomplete as it was at the time.

"Is everything ok with you, Ori?"

Ori looked away for a moment, shrugging. "Things are fine. More or less," he added, and Bilbo looked at him in concern.

"More or less?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm not really supposed to, um…" the brunet mumbled , eyes carefully avoiding Bilbo's own. Pausing in their walk down the hall, Bilbo pulled him aside with a hand on Ori's shoulder. Ori stiffened for a moment, but didn't shrug it off.

"Ori, whatever is going on you can tell me," Bilbo said earnestly, and Ori finally looked up at him, "my mum used to say a burden shared-"

"-is a burden halved," Ori finished with a small smile, and Bilbo's own lips curled upwards in surprise. "Fili has taken to saying it. I think he really looks up to you, you know," he murmured, and Bilbo couldn't help the small blush at the quiet admission.

"Uh, I wouldn't say anyone should really look up to me- it was my mother's saying after all," Bilbo finished lamely, and Ori chuckled lightly before his features sobered again. Bilbo shook off the flustered feeling and waited patiently.

"I just…" Ori began, biting his lip and looking at the ground, "The only ones who know are Nori, Dwalin, Gandalf and Elrond, and I just…" he sighed heavily.

"You can't?" Bilbo guessed, and Ori gave him a miserable nod. "It's alright if you can't tell me, just try not to let whatever it is get you too down, okay?"

Ori's lips twitched into a smile. "Easier said than done, as you probably know."

Bilbo bit back a rueful grin. "I guess I'm as bad as you are with secrets then, huh?"

Ori gave a surprised chuckle at that, tilting his head to regard Bilbo for a moment. "How about…how about the next time one of us feels down about something we can't talk about, why don't we just hang out for a while? No questions asked, just…" Ori trailed off with a shrug, and Bilbo smiled warmly.

"I'd like that Ori."

The other boy smiled back at him, back a little straighter now. They both had secrets, Bilbo knew, but that didn't mean they had to be alone. Something loosened in his chest at that, and he was hard pressed to ignore the warmth he felt at the moment of camaraderie.

"Boggins! Ori!" a voice shouted from right beside them, and both boys jumped in shock.

"Kee you made Bilbo go invisible again," Fili mock chastened, his smirk giving him away.

Bilbo glared at both of their wavering grey grins, Kili's utterly unrepentant, before shifting back into sight.

"Do you really get such enjoyment out of doing that?" he asked drily, and the twins glanced at each other for a second before turning back.

"Yep," both chimed, and Bilbo rolled his eyes.

"Let's get going then, shall we?" Bofur called to them with a cheery smile, and the group set off.

Earlier in the day the five of them had organised to get some extra training done in one of the gymnasiums. With Bilbo, Fili, Kili and Ori all entered into the tournament at the end of the year, the two alphas insisted they get the betas prepared while doing their own training.

"God knows I'll need it with Dwalin as my partner," Ori had mumbled miserably, and Bofur chuckled.

"Dwalin won't let any harm come to ya, I wouldn't worry about it."

"That's the problem…" Ori muttered under his breath, and Bilbo knew the feeling.

After all, Thorin and Dwalin had some of the strongest Gifts in second year and were used to fighting together as a team. Compared to power over the earth and super strength, invisibility and psychic drawings were not exactly in the same ballpark.

"_No, he doesn't need to enter if he doesn't want to,"_ Thorin's words came back to him and Bilbo grit his teeth in irritation. Squaring his shoulders, he shrugged off the self-doubt. If Thorin thought Bilbo was going to hold him back, he had another thing coming.

The twins ran them through a few different drills Frerin had taught them, focusing more on dodging and defensive movements.

"Hit fast and hit low, because you sure as hell don't want to get too close to some of the alpha's Gifts this year," Fili instructed. The blond had taken to mentoring the three betas with Kili as back up, and Bilbo was surprised how much like Frerin he seemed in those moments.

Glancing up and meeting Bolg's eye from his place at the opposite end of the gym, Bilbo shuddered. The other teen sneered but didn't seem inclined to start anything, instead focusing on shifting his skin and running through his own drills.

Bilbo had been unable to help hesitating as their group entered the gym and Bolg had looked up, the boy already using some of the equipment. The larger teen had ignored the other's glares and snorted at Bilbo's impression of a deer in the headlights. Thankfully the gymnasium was large enough for the five of them to ignore Bolg for the most part.

Running a hand through his sweat dampened curls, Bilbo focused on rolling out of the way of Kili's arrow, the energy and power behind them diluted to merely sting and not maim. As it arced above his head, Bilbo flinched from the passing brush of electricity.

"Do we really have to practice with Gifts?" Bilbo complained, not for the first time, and Kili tutted.

"Now Boggins, if you can't avoid alpha Gifts now how are you going to avoid them in the tournament? Mine isn't the only projectile type Gift you know," Kili lectured, oddly serious for once.

"And we have mine to prepare you for the melee Gifts in close range," Fili piped up, effortlessly twirling a fighting staff behind his back.

Though Fili's Gift involved instant mastery over weapons, the blond specialised in melee only. He refused to even touch a bow, when Bilbo had asked, insisting that arrows were for losers anyway before Kili had launched himself at the blond in a mock rage.

Startled out of his thoughts by a cleared throat, Bilbo spun around to see Thorin standing by the doors. His arms were crossed and the teen didn't look any better than he had this morning.

"Frerin is looking for you three," he said flatly, and Bilbo, Fili and Kili winced as one.

"I guess that's it for training then," Fili trailed off, heaving a sigh.

Thorin stood aside as Bofur, Ori, Fili and Kili moved past him and into the hall, the four of them already murmuring about showers. Bilbo paused as he reached Thorin, tilting his head back to regard the older brunet.

Thorin wouldn't look at him, and Bilbo felt a lead weight settle in his stomach.

"See you at dinner, then," he muttered, pushing past the Durin.

Thorin waited until he felt the light footsteps fade down the corridor, before looking back over his shoulder. He felt a pang in his chest, but the ache was quickly overcome with a dark anger.

Fixing his eyes on Bolg, alone at the other end of the gym, Thorin smirked.

The gymnasium door closed gently, the click of the lock echoing down the empty marble corridor like a promise.


End file.
